Dragon Ball Z: Novum Imperium
by CrimsonFlare121
Summary: The galaxy has not remained idle while Goku and his friends adventured. While the Z-Fighters fought Cell and Buu, the vast Planet Trade Organization crumbled, reformed, and crumbled again. Now, thirteen years after their relocation, strife, struggle and sacrifice would come again to Namek, and a long-dead specter of the past would be reborn... (Lotsa OC)
1. History of the Glaciem Imperium

**I don't own Dragon Ball, DBZ or DBGT; they are owned by Akrira Toriyama, Toei Animation and Fuji TV, etc.**

**A/N 1st Fanfic, just thought I'd try my hand at it. This story will start off pretty slow, but it'll probably pick up later.**

**Just FYI, the 1st 2 chapters deal with some fanmade history of what happened to Frieza's empire after he died; its not absolutely necessary to understand the story. If you want to know about the Z-Fighters and such, that starts in Chapter 3. **

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New Namek. A lush, beautiful green planet, with verdant slopes stretching far into the distance. Sparsely populated by a few hundred Namekians, the planet and its inhabitants had enjoyed just over a decade of peace after being transplanted from their old home. Though many years had passed, and many new children had been born, the majority of the population could still recall the blood, terror and death that the Planet Trade Organization had brought to their peaceful planet. Frieza had been the first, with his grandiose schemes for immortality and eternal tyranny. His mad quest for eternal life had slaughtered the the entire population and, in a colossal clash with the eventually Super Saiyan Goku, had rendered the once-lush planet nothing more than assorted space debris. Recovering from the traumatic experience of dying, being revived, and relocating to a new home halfway across the galaxy, the peaceful Namekians had once again been subjected to terror, this time in the mechanized army of Meta-Cooler and the Big Gete Star. Once again, it was only with the aid of Goku- and his friends, that the crisis had been averted, and this time, thankfully, the planet preserved.

Following the defeat of Cooler, peace on New Namek was once again reestablished and the Namekians lived isolated from the rest of the galaxy, their only contact with the outside world being sporadic visits and checkups from Dende and Piccolo, who, although having long since made Earth their home, occasionally were overwhelmed with nostalgia and longing for New Namek and other Namekians. Nonetheless, New Namek, for the most part, was cloistered away in a desolate, uninhabited and inhospitable sector of the galaxy, thanks to the Big Gete Star and its energy-depleting journeys. This welcome isolation shielded the Namekians from mainstream galactic civilization, almost all of which wholeheartedly believed the Namekians were an extinct race, having perished on Namek with its destruction. But the rest of the galaxy had not been dormant over the passing years, and trials and suffering would once again come to the peaceful Namekians.

_Planet Caldaari, formerly Planet Frieza 46, Tango Base, Sector 17-Omega, Age 775._

"Sir!" rang out from the officers gathered on the command center of Tango Base as Lieutenant-Colonel Jakoti, a heavily built, yellow-skinned reptilian, and the planet's Overseer made his way across the bridge and to his chair at the far end of the walkway.

"At ease." replied Jakoti casually as he sat down with a sigh, plucking a cup of coffee from the nearby stand. "I've got an important announcement today. We've got new orders. Straight from the top brass, the Triumvirate itself."

An uneasy murmur ran through the assembled officers at the sound of the legendary duo that ruled over the recently reunified and reorganized _Glaciem Imperium, _as the Planet Trade Organization had been officially known as_._ After the death of Frieza, his father, and brother under uncertain circumstances, the vast Imperium that directly and indirectly ruled over 85% of the North Galaxy had been plunged into a power vacuum and an enormous civil war erupted in months. The Provisional Board of Governors, set up by the Cold Family's top generals had disintegrated into a succession of "Empires", each headed by a general, and each claiming to be the legitimate successor to the original Imperium. After some four years of conquest and counter-conquest, the Arcosians emerged from their isolation on their home planet and seemingly reestablished order through ruthless conquest in less than half a year.

However, the Arcosians themselves soon split, into the conservative Imperialists, composed primarily of the remnants of Cold Family and their supporters, who favored the old, Frieza-esque style of ruling, and the highly progressive Republicans, who preferred a far more liberal, and popular manner of ruling. Within another two years, the split in government had once again torn the galaxy apart, if in a far more organized manner than before. The War of Devolution, as it was now commonly called, was immediately precipitated by an attempted coup d'etat by the Imperialists, who slaughtered over a dozen top Republicans in the open Forum. The Imperialists thus instigated the war, and as their ranks held the most powerful of the Arcosians, soon gained the upper hand in a series of decisive victories.

The names of the factions reflected their military strategy as well: the Imperialists, in typical Frieza fashion, possessed huge numbers of cannon fodder troops, backed by far more powerful commanders and generals. The Republicans, on the other hand, fielded somewhat more competent line infantry, but the power gap between grunt and general was consequently smaller. Staggered by the loss of their leaders, the Republicans were uncoordinated and forced back, losing entire systems without a shot being fired. Although the Imperialists began with an early head start, the Republicans, soon reduced to a mere quarter of the galaxy, rallied and managed to hang on. In the fourth month of the war's second year, three highly capable, more militant subordinates rose to command of the Republican armies.

Reorganizing and disciplining the demoralized troops, Koldaros, the self-proclaimed strongest warrior alive and the group's public face, quickly established his reputation as hands-on, aggressive general who lead from the front, by example. Less iconic, although still well recognized and lauded, was the brilliant strategist Volrhans, who made his name as the architect of four spectacular triumphs in the same week. The Battles of Torans, Caldrhi, Forcenae and Phyrysco turned the tide for the Republican cause, butchering over five million Imperialist troops, twenty thousand ships and sixteen of their top warriors.

But it was the last member of the newly dubbed Triumvirate, the shadowy Hikeraos was a technological and scientific genius, personally responsible for the plethora of new weaponry and equipment that arguably made him the most important of the Three. A brilliant quantum physicist under the old Imperium, he applied his knowledge of electrons and ions to create two extremely influential inventions, as well as a slew of lesser upgrades and improvements on existing technology. Until him, the vast hosts on both sides had been entirely dependent on the technology established almost a decade ago. Advances in quantum physics, Hikeraos's specialty, allowed the development of radical, totally unheard of technology, in a mere three weeks. The time needed was garnered via a false suing for peace. Masterminded by Volrhans, the Republican diplomats successfully faked a surrender conference for the three weeks necessary to produce the new equipment.

His first, less spectacular, though still very impressive invention was new armor, constructed of several thousand layers of extremely thin, rigid polymer, it provided a flexible and very tough defense against all forms of energy, dispersing it by shattering a few dozen layers and thus dissipating the force of the strike. The most striking feature of the new armor was was energy absorption layers, usually the outermost thousand or so, the layers were composed of superionized metal anions, typically iron, since it was cheap and plentiful, which were essentially overloaded iron atoms whose electrons were kept in place their own magnetic field. When energy was introduced into the system, it would provide the anions with the required energy for them to lose their electrons, which would then be harmlessly released from the field. In effect, any energy directed at the armor would be neutralized until the iron atoms ran out of surplus electrons, and the energy required to negate all the surplus electrons was unimaginably vast compared to the amount that the arm cannons used by Imperialist troops were capable of delivering. Naturally, this gave Republican infantry a tremendous advantage in battles, which they exploited to the fullest.

Hikeraos's second invention, the ion rifle, was even more spectacular than his first. Operating on a similar principle as his first invention, the ion rifle fired projectiles of the same superionized iron anions used in his armor. However, these ions' electrons were excited to maximum capacity by photon emitters in the rifle barrel prior to firing, forming Rydberg matter, whereupon they were encased in a magnetic field generated by the ions themselves and propelled to the target. Upon impact, the magnetic field facilitated penetration of the target, after which the Rydberg matter was artificially regressed to ground state, releasing a massive amount of energy in the process. In effect, the ion rifle fired projectiles that penetrated their target and exploded, with subsequent messy results.

Besides the two aforementioned inventions, Hikeraos upgraded the standard-issue scouters with advanced tracking software for the rifles, medical and status readouts for the individual, and integrated communications and tracking devices that greatly facilitated coordination and effective maneuvering. The cumulative effect of the various inventions and improvements on a well-trained infantryman was to elevate his fighting prowess from a power level of a few hundred to at least ten thousand. Given that every soldier was equipped thus, and that the soldiers massed in the millions, regular grunts could, with sufficient numbers, actually kill formerly invincible warriors on the level of Frieza.

The new technology was mass produced in enormous quantities during the vital three-week respite and fitted onto everything from line infantry to superbattleships. By the time the Imperialists realized they had been duped, the Republicans had, in an incredible logistical feat, fully overhauled their entire military with the new technology. Equipped with their new weaponry, newly inspired with bold leadership, and guided by one of the greatest strategic minds the galaxy had ever seen, the Republican hosts burst from their quarter of the galaxy, winning the four great victories, and putting the Imperialist armies to flight. But the stubborn Imperialists refused to yield, despite the grim turn of events. In a surprising, and extremely ruthless shift in tactics, the Imperialists began implementing a planet-buster policy, destroying entire worlds in hit-and-run tactics with elite squadrons, seriously retarding the Republican lightning offensive.

Already in control of half the galaxy again, the Republicans chose to adopt a much more methodical advance, and systematically clearing sectors and securing them before moving on. Nonetheless, their superior armies ground forward, conquering sector after sector, albeit with agonizing torpidity. The Republican advance began to assume the properties of a steamroller moving at a snail's pace, inexorable and unstoppable, but ridiculously slow.

After four more years of the status quo, the war finally came to a head, and at the gargantuan dying star of Jovanae, the Imperialists prepared to make their last stand. In the Battle of Jovanae, Volrhans himself chose to lead the First Fleet, his pride and joy, the finest ships and soldiers in the Republican military, in the spectacular finish to four decidedly unspectacular years of attrition. Yearning for the masterful strategic maneuvering of yore, Volrhans unwittingly fell into an enormous trap. Prior to the battle, he heeded the urgings of caution from his fellow Triumvirs, and had assessed the possibility of a trap but concluded that with the entire Imperialist high command present, they would not dare destabilize Jovanae and set off a supernova that would undoubtedly consume them all.

He had underestimated the desperation of the Imperialists. As feared by his compatriots, the Imperialists did indeed prematurely destabilize Jovanae, and the resulting explosion engulfed not only both fleets, but the majority of the Jovanae system. The cataclysmic end to the battle marked the end of the War of Devolution; the remaining Imperialists surrendered at Jovanae Minor shortly thereafter. Volrhans was posthumously given the highest honors of the new Interstellar Republic, and the massive black hole that was his tomb was named the Volrhans. The Republic mourned the loss of one of its founders and heroes by enacting the custom of symbolically feeding traitors "to Volrhans", beginning with all the remaining Imperialists and sympathizers they could find.

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**A/N: Just a side note, my grasp of quantum mechanics, superionization, magnetic fields, and (especially) Rydberg matter is elementary at best, so if I've made a glaring error in interpreting and extrapolating on these concepts, somebody please correct me. **


	2. A New Mission

For the year and a half following the end of the War of Devolution, the Interstellar Republic had consolidated its position, reimposing peace, order and some semblance of normalcy to a galaxy that had undergone over six years of total war. While the war had raged in the North Galaxy, the major powers of the East and West Galaxies, the Serpentine Dominion and the Unified Confederation, respectively, had not been idle. By the end of the war, the Interstellar Republic found that it could only assert effective control over 65% of the galaxy, a full fifth having been unceremoniously annexed on both edges of the North Galaxy. Unable to sustain another war so soon after the conclusion of the War of Devolution, the Koldaros, the main proponent of reconquest, was forced to swallow his pride and turn to the reunification of what territory he had left.

Under the Koldaros and Hikeraos, the Republic established ostensibly representative, liberal government across the billions of stars under its dominion. Power, however, remained heavily concentrated within the military, which held final say over all matters, civil and diplomatic. The Arcosians as a race were elevated to the status of near-deities, revered as saviors, gaining heightened status and occupying all the highest position in government. For the most part, however, the daily affairs of the Republic were dealt with on Arcosia, the neighboring planet to Arcos, and although Arcos remained the Republic's official capital, it was Arcosia which developed as the true center of government. It was on Arcosia that the enormous, predominantly non-Arcosian bureaucracy administered the business of government. Though they held ultimate authority and sway over the Republic, the Arcosians rarely chose to wield it, preferring to remain within their sanctuaries and palaces on Arcos. The sole exception was Kaldaros, who, while his race retreated from the forefront of political life, enlarged his role in the highest levels of government. As the Supreme Commander of the Army, Koldaros assumed dictatorial powers, "for the sake of security" against the still-active Imperialist rebels and other dissenters of the regime. Hikeraos, disdaining the public position taken by Koldaros, more or less faded into the background, becoming an obscure, legendary figure shrouded in mystery, who seldom, if ever, ventured from his citadel on Arcos.

After a very busy year and a half, the state of the North Galaxy was more or less maintained as a representative Republic administered in Senates, which deferred the the Supreme Senate, headed in name by the Presidor and in reality by the Supreme Commander, Koldaros. With his , the elite, all-Arcosian military unit numbering exactly a million soldiers, Koldaros was effectively the sole ruler of the Interstellar Republic, although a fairly benevolent one. Having established himself and his power base, Koldaros now turned resentful eyes towards the sections of what he saw as rightfully _his_ galaxy under the control of foreigners. But to start an intergalactic war was no small matter, and he was no strategical mastermind like his old friend Volrhans had been. Nonetheless, nebulous plans were forming within the highest levels of the Republic's government by Age 775.

* * *

"So our new orders," continued Jakoti, ignoring his subordinates' unease, "are top-secret, classified at a level so high most of you maggots have probably never even heard of it. As such, you are NOT to speak, confer, or in any way insinuate these orders to anybody not present in this room. Ever. Under any circumstances. Anybody who does so will be punished accordingly."

Another uneasy murmur swept through the ranks at the thought of being dragged off by the Enforcers. Once again, Jakoti continued unhesitatingly. "Unbeknownst to the majority of the population, our leaders are currently in the process of making war plans for a lightning strike against either the Confederation or the Dominion. Which one it will be is our job to determine. The newly delivered prototype stealth ships that came in yesterday were developed by Hikeraos himself, or so I'm told. We are to use them to scout the border defenses of Dominion space, which, as you all know, are a mere four light-years from this base. Each of you captains have been called here today because you are some of the best in the Republic. Koldaros himself will be reading your reports, and I trust you will make them worth his time. Find something good, and you will be _well_ rewarded, likely by some of the top brass, in person." Jakoti paused here, turning to gaze out of the viewport and towards the Dominion frontier light-years beyond his sight. "I hope all of you men understand what is at stake here. Dismissed."

"Sir!" reverberated from the throats of the few hundred officers, before they made their way towards the bridge exit.

"One last thing..." called the Lt. Colonel, in a slightly regretful tone.

The officers ground to a halt in shock at hearing their superior use anything besides the gruff, paternal tone that was his trademark.

"The Supreme Commander has personally decreed that any man detected by the enemy will be considered a traitor, and dealt with accordingly. There is nothing I can do for you if that happens."

An almost palpable fear flooded the room at the thought of being "fed to Volrhans", the terrifying death that nobody had been subjected to since the end of the war. Being slowly crushed and consumed by a black hole was not a death anybody would ever want.

"I have the utmost confidence in you men, however, and I'm sure it won't come to that. Good luck."

The officers, a new urgency in their movements, hastened off to their ships.


	3. The Call to Arms

_Planet Earth, West City, Age 775, One year following the defeat of Kid Buu_

"No fair Trunks, I don't know your house like you do! How am I supposed to find you when you lower your energy?!" A young, black-haired child of seven pouted, as he wandered aimlessly around the carefully tended lawn of Capsule Corporation. Nearby, several women, along with a short, black-haired man, a taller, also black-haired, man, and a bald three-eyed man chatted peaceably. Another group of talkers, sprawled comfortably under a tree, consisted of a short, chubby pig, a blue, hovering cat, and short-porcelain-white man, along with an old white-bearded man and a huge mountain of a man with a horned helmet. A young couple was off close to the edge of the property, quietly conversing, and metallic creaks and groans resonated from a large, squat oval building from which reddish light was also emitting. It was a bright summer day, and Bulma was hosting another of her Z-Fighter gatherings, which she tended to call every few weeks or so. Most of the gathered people were talking, Gohan and Videl were off somewhere more private, Goten and Trunks were likely up to some mischief, and Goku and Vegeta were busy pounding each other into a pulp. The tranquil scene was shattered by a loud _pop _from the kitchen and a shrill screech: "Trunks, Goten, you get back here right now and clean that mess up! I mean it! You're in big trouble now, Son Goten!"

"But Mom, we were just hungry, we didn't know it was going to blow up like.. OW! MOM! HEY! RUN TRUNKS, SHE'S REALLY MAD NOW!"

The door to the kitchen of Capsule Corporation burst open and two young children sprinted out, holding their hands over their heads and shouting incoherently to one another. Hot on their heels was a middle-aged black haired woman waving a frying pan and smashing the boys' heads whenever they came within her reach. The unlikely trio tore across the lawn, crashing suddenly through the group of talkers under the tree and sending the startled people sprawling. After being chased around the lawn some three times, much to the amusement of the other group of talkers, the boys leapt into the air and, summoning clear-gray auras, hurtled into the sky, out of the reach of the angry woman, who remained on the ground, shouting threats at their vanishing forms.

A few minutes later, a tall young man with spiky black hair ambled casually up to the now- panting woman and inquired: "You want me to go after them Mom? Me and Videl could chase them down in a few minutes."

Straightening up, Chi Chi shook her head. "No Gohan, don't bother, they'll have to come back for lunch sooner or later and I'll punish them then. But could you go and tell Bulma that the boys wrecked her microwave? Oh, and lunch will be ready soon too, so you should probably tell your father and Vegeta."

"Sure, Mom." Gohan strode over to the still-intact talking group, and after a brief conversation, headed for the squat building from which alarming explosions and impacts were still emitting. Wincing slightly at the din, Gohan opened the door, poked in head in, and hastily withdrew, slamming the door shut as a tremendous explosion shook the entire building. The clumps of people scattered across the lawn glanced concernedly over, but Gohan smiled and waved off their worried inquiries. A few seconds later, he opened the door again, this time more cautiously, and spoke a few words inside. Barely a second later, a muscular, spiky-black-haired man, a larger version of the one who had fled Capsule Corporation a few minutes ago bounded out the door and made a beeline for the picnic tables, ignoring the fact that he was battered, bloody and wearing only half a shirt. He was trailed a few minutes later by a shorter, flame-haired man, who also sported numerous injuries and torn a torn set of armor. He paused to speak a few words to Gohan before following the first man to the tables.

Moments later, Chi Chi emerged from the kitchen, followed by a blond-haired rather vacuous-looking women, both carrying large platters of food. After placing them on the picnic tables, and whistling sharply to signal lunch was ready, both returned to ferry more food onto the tables. Gradually, from all around the spacious lawn of Capsule Corporation, the Z-Fighters gathered at the tables for lunch, continuing their respective conversations. Sharply scolding Goku and Vegeta, both of whom had gobbled down several platters before even sitting down, Chi Chi soon sat down and joined the rest in lunch and small talk.

A peaceful fifteen or so minutes passed, with the Saiyans plowing through dozens of plates each, as usual, before two dots shone in the sky above Capsule Corporation, and rapidly enlarged into Goten and Trunks, who had just remembered that they wanted to eat lunch. Shamefaced and puppy-eyed, they landed next to the table and profusely apologized to Chi Chi, before weathering a torrent of reprimands, lecturing, and several sharp blows from the feared frying pan. Nonetheless, they were soon allowed to partake of the bountiful feast laid out on the tables, which they did so joyfully.

Midway through a lively conversation with Krillin, Goku turned to his eldest son and asked "Hey Gohan, d'you wanna spar with me and Vegeta after lunch? You gotta promise not to go Mystic though, cause Vegeta gets mad when I go past Super Saiyan 2, like-

"Tactless as usual, Kakarot," growled the adjacent Vegeta, "or have you just forgotten that I'm sitting right next to you?"

"Well its true, Vegeta, you wouldn't even join the fight that one time me and Gotenks were fighting at level three."

"Well, if you hadn't hidden it that one time from me when we fought, perhaps I wouldn't still be so sore over level three."

Gohan, somewhat shut out of the conversation, noted that while his father and Vegeta dueled verbally just as fiercely as ever, their banter had lost its edge of viciousness that Vegeta had once insisted on. Smiling inwardly, Gohan spoke up again: "Alright Vegeta, I'll spar with you and I agree not to ascend past level two, but I never thought you to be so concerned with being fair, Mr. I'm-the-Strongest-Fighter-in-the-Universe."

Goku and Gohan burst out laughing at the memory, while Vegeta merely scowled at them and returned to gulping down chicken legs.

**A/N: This occurs in the episode "Vegeta Attacks" where Vegeta claims this title before fighting Pui Pui. Unbeknownst to him, however, Goku is stronger than him as both a SSJ3 _and _SSJ2 at this point. **

The amiable conversation was again interrupted, but this time, it was far more unexpected. Suddenly, Goku jerked up, hearing a telepathic message from King Kai, and judging by his frantic speech, it was a fairly urgent one. The Z-Fighters, recognizing the signs, quickly terminated their conversations and focused on Goku.

"Goku, Goku, can you hear me?"

"Yeah King Kai, I can hear you, go ahead."

"Good. I just received a telepathic message from Grand Elder Moori, you know, on New Namek. He was rather alarmed and frightened, with good reason too. You know, after Frieza's death, the Planet Trade Organization was thrown into chaos, and it didn't help that his father and brother died around that time too. Anyways, a big war broke out over his empire, and they've been fighting for the past ten years or so. I thought they'd just wind up killing each other and not be a bother to us again. But apparently, the old PTO isn't quite dead yet. It's mobilized again and one of their scout ships just landed on New Namek. Moori obviously still remembers what happened the last time the PTO came to Namek, and he wants to avoid that again, hopefully. So he messaged me to alert you guys. I trust you'll answer his call?"

"You betcha, King Kai. We'll be there in a couple of minutes. I just gotta go get Piccolo and Dende; I think they'll want to come along."

"All right Goku, stay safe."

"Will do. Can you tell Supreme Kai about this, just in case?"

"Okay, I guess its worth his attention. Good luck Goku."

Standing, Goku quickly relayed the gist of the message to his friends, and hastily gulping down the rest of his fried pork, stood.

"Sorry, Bulma, we gotta go, thanks for the food and fun. I'll see you later Chi Chi; we shouldn't be gone too long." Turning to his friends, he spoke:"C'mon guys, the Namekians need our help. Who's in?"

"I am." Gohan stood next his father. I can never forget our adventures on Namek and I'll be glad to help again."

"Well, looks like Frieza's goons need another beating. I'm game." Vegeta joined his rival.

"Same here. We can't let the Nameks suffer again." Krillin, too, stood.

"Well, to tell the truth, I've always wanted to see what Namek was like."

"Me too."

"And me." Yamcha, Tien and Chiaotzu agreed.

"Well then, looks like the whole gang's going. Gather round, guys." Goku put two fingers to his forehead, and waited for the Z-Fighters to link arms.

"Hey! Wait! What about us? We wanna see the Frieza guys too!"

"Yeah, no fair, we can fight too!"

"Trunks, I absolutely forbid you to go! That fiasco with Buu was enough tension for me, thank you!"

"And Goten, you need to study, Gohan was much farther along in his academics at your age. You have lots of homework that needs doing."

Goku, not paying much attention, glanced around, confirming all the Z-Fighters were ready to go, and transmitted. In the last instant, while all the warriors were flickering out of sight, Trunks lunged forward, dragging a surprised Goten with him, and barely managed to snag Chiaotzu's leg. An instant later, the entire group materialized at Kami's Lookout. A second after that, Goku and Vegeta noticed that their sons had come along for the ride.

"Goten, Trunks, you shouldn't be here. I'll take you back to your mothers in a second."

"Aw, Dad, we wanna fight too, when YOU were our age you were fighting, weren't you?"

"Yeah, Mom always told me stories about her Dragon Ball-hunting with you when you were only a kid! It's not fair, we can fight just like you could!"

"Well..."

"Come on, Kakarot, do you want your son to become a spineless bookworm or a real warrior. I think Trunks is more than capable of handling himself. He can go."

"Yeah, Dad, if Trunks can go, I should be able to too! Besides, we can fuse, and we're really strong then!"

"Well... I guess so, but you two are going to be the ones explaining to your mothers."

"What an uproar! Goku, Vegeta, why are you all here? Not that you aren't welcome, but you said you were going somewhere?" Dende emerged from the doorway to the inner rooms of the Lookout, staff in hand. Piccolo, tall and imposing as ever, loomed behind him.

"Hey Dende, Piccolo, glad you're here! We just came to get you guys, cause, you see, New Namek's been attacked! Some PTO soldier just landed there and King Kai told me. I assume you guys want to go?"

"Yeah, definitely. It's been a long time since I saw home, and I'm sure Piccolo is nostalgic too."

Though he said nothing, his inner Nail was seething at the thought of the savage PTO soldiers once again ravaging his peaceful home planet. Piccolo strode rapidly over and placed his hand on Goku's shoulder.

Dende rushed after him and grabbed Piccolo's other hand. "We're ready Goku, go ahead."

"Sure. Just gotta make a quick stop at Korin's first." Stepping away from the group, Goku vanished. A few minutes later, while everyone was more or less awkwardly waiting in the tense air, Goku reappeared, a fat pouch of Senzu Beans at his belt. "Okay, luckily Korin just had a harvest, so we've got a good couple dozen beans here. And of course, Dende can always help too. Grab hold everyone. The Namekians need our help." After confirming everyone was ready, Goku concentrated for several long seconds. "Okay, I got it." And the greatest assembly of the Z-Fighters since the Cell Games flickered and vanished, ready to fight, and if necessary, die for their friends.


	4. Discovery

_Sector Omega-17, Age 775, Yesterday_

On the bridge of the _Spearhead,_ a newly commissioned _Shrike-_class long-range stealth frigate, Executive Officer Lieutenant Hadraya stood, dully glancing at her handheld data display, on which the recently updated sensor report was displayed: assorted space debris, a few larger asteroids, a just-in-range Dominion border beacon, and a whole lot of extremely empty space. Just about the same thing it had been showing for the past seven hours. At least her bridge shift was almost at an end, and her relief would be coming in another forty minutes or so. This entire scouting mission on the Dominion border was a waste of time, in her opinion. While she fully appreciated the necessity of attacking the enemy's weak points, it was well-known that the entire Dominion border was marked by combination beacon/warning outposts. Any attempt to take a fleet though would be instantly detected. Wasting the manpower to confirm this commonly circulated fact just seemed like a waste of time.

Taking another glance at her sensor display, she tossed it down with disgust onto the Captain's chair and strode for the exit.

"I'm going to get a snack," she tossed over her shoulder. "Tell anybody who needs me I'll be in the mess hall." Walking down the pristine, if somewhat cramped corridor, she ducked nodded to a passing ensign, who snapped off a slightly nervous salute, and a grizzled old sergeant who acknowledged her much more lazily. Frowning slightly at the sergeant's behavior, she reached the end of the hall and pressed the call button for the elevator. Although she was a relatively new officer, and fairly inexperienced with the customs of the military, she was a rigid, by-the-book type who firmly disapproved of such casual behavior. Of course, the rivalry between the army and navy didn't exactly help matters, and despite the reforms passed almost two years ago by the Republic, many old habits from the Frieza days, especially informality and sloth, and especially among the enlisted ranks, died hard. Shrugging the matter off, she had taken the elevator down three levels and was enjoying a light snack when her communicator pinged, signifying the bridge apparently needed her again. Rolling her eyes in exasperation, she pulled it out and answered.

"Hello? What is it this time?"

"Ma'am, the sensor's have just picked up another star system, three and a half light years distant. It's not on any of the charts."

Raising an eyebrow at that one, Hadraya quickly grabbed her snack and headed back to the elevator. "Alright, I'll be up in a second then. Run a deep scan on the system in the meantime."

"Yes ma'am."

A minute or so later, the bridge doors hissed open and Hadraya stepped through, more than a little interested at the rogue star system. While Frieza's cartographers admittedly hadn't been the most thorough in their mapping, she wouldn't have thought they would overlook an entire system.

"What do we have here?" Hadraya asked the ensign manning the sensor terminal.

"Ma'am, as you can see, we are approaching the system rapidly, and we're about two light-years away. We were preparing to disengage the jump drive in another minute. The system appears to be mostly healthy, unlike the other husks we've come across on our patrol. Two of the outer planets have been energy-drained in the same way we've seen before, but the three inner ones seem to be perfectly normal. It's the middle one that is somewhat...unusual."

"How so?"

"Well, we're picking up readings of plentiful land, a tolerable atmosphere, and a decent amount of natural resources. However, it appears also to posses liquid _water._"

Hadraya was shocked at that. Liquid water was by far the rarest commodity in the universe, and although it was usually synthesized from water vapor common on many gas giants, finding a reservoir of ready-to-use water was akin to a diamond mine in previous centuries. If prior cartographers had failed to document such a gold mine, they had to be either ridiculously incompetent, or up to foul play. Of course, since most of the data they were using was of prewar origin, the information was mostly useless anyway. Apparently, some energy-sucking machine had come through this sector a while back, in the middle of the War, and drained most of the planets of their resources. But still, these charts dated to before that event, and that this planet had remained undocumented was baffling, to say the least. Turning her attention to more relevant matters, Hadraya realized something that made her elation sag, if only slightly; if there was water, there was also a high probability of...

"Unfortunately, the scanners also detected an abundance of living organisms. Whether any are sentient is unknown at this point, although there appears to be no significant industrialization or development. No major cities, obviously, or we'd have picked them up by now. If there's any sentient life, its most likely sporadic."

"Thank you, ensign, for your report. I'll see to it that a commendation is placed in your file." She turned, beckoning at the communications officer. "Open a hailing channel to the planet, just in case there is some civilization present. And call the captain here immediately." Thoughts raced through her head. If they could secure such a source of water for the Imperium, this pointless mission could actually prove extremely profitable. Visions of awards and promotions danced through her mind, rudely interrupted when Captain Pasdet burst through the bridge doors.

"Is it true? You've found a planet with _oceans_? Do you know how much that's worth?" Realizing his undignified entrance, he calmed down abruptly, turning to the sensors officer and ordering, "Run a focused scan on the oceans immediately. I want to know exactly how much water there is."

"Sir!" came the somewhat startled voice of the communications officer. "The hailing query was acknowledged! There appears to be a fairly advanced level communications facility located on the western continent!"

"What!? How is that possible?! This is so far from the trade network that standardized communications shouldn't even be within a thousand light years!" Hadraya protested in disbelief.

"It appears that another organization has staked its claim here first. Comm, is it the signal source a Dominion transmitter?" The captain kept a tighter control on his falling spirits. " If this is Dominion space, we will have no choice but to back off. Our orders are clear. We cannot risk an intergalactic incident, even over such a fortune as this."

"Sir, the signal is... not from a Dominion transmitter, nor of any known origin. Also sir, the signal vanished just now." The officer's confused tone suited the shock now pervading the bridge.

The captain was the first to recover. "Well, it seems we can still claim this water after all! If they cut off their signal like that, they can only be up to something illicit. Lieutenant, order the troops to prepare for a ground sortie. Sensors, what's our ETA?"

"We're going on realspace drive now, sir, ETA is thirty-nine minutes. Should I set her down on the surface, or stay in orbit?"

"Set her down, officer, I'd like to explore this planet up close, and-" the captain cut his order short suddenly, his eyes widening. "Wait a second... officer, get me a close-up of the planet, fullscreen."

"Yes sir." replied the rather puzzled officer. "Onscreen now, 2500x magnification."

"In the name of Frieza, how in the cosmos is that possible..." the captain muttered, his voice filled with a peculiar mixture of awe, fear, and shock.

"Um, sir, could you explain what the problem is? I can't see anything out of the ordinary." Hadraya timidly ventured.

Her inquiry seemed to have brought the captain back to his wits, but some of the emotions lingered in his eyes and movements. Composing himself, he turned to Hadraya. "Order the men to don full assault gear, not their scout suits. And bring the battle crawlers too."

Completely surprised, Hadraya gaped for a few moments before asking, in shock, "The battle crawlers sir? For a nondeveloped planet? We know there aren't any major population centers, and the battle crawlers seem a bit extreme, sir, especially if we're going out in full assault gear..."

"Hadraya, do you know where Frieza was first defeated?"

"...well, yes, sir, it was on the Planet Namek..."

"And did you ever see Namek before it was destroyed, or a picture of it?"

"Um, no sir, it was a total backwater, I only know it because of its, um, history..."

"Well I saw it, Hadraya, while I was with King Cold, looking for Frieza. We were shown images of it, of what it looked like before it blew. Before we knew we'd be finding Frieza in a debris field. And that planet down there... it looks _exactly_ and I mean _exactly _like Planet Namek."

"Sir..."

"And I'm sure everyone on this bridge knows what happened on Namek... Now get the troops ready. And the crawlers."

"Yes sir!"


	5. Failed Diplomacy

_Sector Omega-17, Planet New Namek, Age 775, Present Time_

Particles of matter and indistinguishable shapes rapidly coalesced into the forms of Goku and the Z-Fighters, fresh from Earth. Before them was the energy signature Goku had locked onto and used as an anchor to transmit the group here. Grand Elder Moori, a large, heavyset Namekian of the Dragon Clan, was in frantic conversation with several other Elders of his race. All around them, children and the elderly rushed like agitated ants, gathering, it seemed, their personal possessions.

"-there's no way that we'll be able to beat them on our own; even if we kill this batch, others are bound to follow. We must secure the Dragonballs immediately- Ah, Goku, there you are! And just in the nick of time, too! Once again, you have arrived to deliver us from torment. I see your friends are here too. We can never express the depth of our gratitude for your assistance."

"No problem, Elder Moori, if the Planet Trade Organization is back, its a big threat that we need to stop right away." Goku glanced around, scanning the village. "Do you know where the ship landed? It's difficult to detect the soldiers' energy signals; they're just too small."

"Yes Goku, we massed our warriors and sent off fifteen minutes ago. They landed to the north, just twenty miles or so away. The ship isn't as big as Frieza's was, but it could still probably hold a hundred troops or so."

**A/N: I'm totally guessing as to the size of Frieza's ship, but from the number of troops he presumably had with him, I'd estimate it capable of holding a few hundred.**

"Thanks, Moori, we'd better hurry up and see if we can prevent any Namekian deaths today. Have any of the villages been unfortunate enough to encounter soldiers?"

"No, I'm pretty sure our warriors got there just as they were landing, but just in case, I called the rest of our people here, and told them to hide their Dragonballs. The last thing we need is for the PTO to get their hands on them."

Nodding in acknowledgment, Goku turned to the Z-Fighters. "Alright, let's do this!"

Igniting their clear-gray flying auras, the Z-Fighters shot into the sky, arrowing towards the landed PTO troops.

_Sector Omega-17, Planet New Namek, Age 775, Spearhead Landing Site, 10 Minutes ago_

"Have all the crawlers been deployed, Lieutenant?" Captain Pasdet paced, slightly nervously on the command deck of the _Spearhead_ and checked the sensor display again. "We can't afford much more of this delay." He jabbed his finger at the life-sensor display. The detected concentrations of life are moving. When we landed, they were scattered in seven clusters, but now they're all migrating towards the center one. And a smaller group has gathered near the larger one and is now headed our way. I'd wager that the Namekians have detected our presence and sent their warriors to greet us."

Lieutenant Hadraya winced inwardly, though she maintained a stoic demeanor. The captain had been acting in a slightly unhinged manner ever since the life signatures had been verified as Namekians. Though she had to admit that discovering a healthy population of a supposedly long-extinct species was peculiar, to say the least, she wished the captain would at least contain his anxiety in front of his troops. "Sir, the last one is being deployed now. The crew had some trouble firing up the controls, but they've resolved all difficulties now. All other troops have been mustered in full assault gear and the ship's automated security enabled. We are ready to depart."

"Good, let's go then." Beckoning to the guards at the bridge doors, Pasdet strode out of the ship and down to his soldiers arrayed below. In perfect parade-ground order, the full complement of the _Spearhead_, some 108 soldiers in all, including officers, stood at attention. The four battle crawlers, resembling miniature shuttles, had scuttled to the corners and idled there, weapons primed.

**A/N: The battle crawlers are my own invention (obviously), since I thought it kind of strange that Frieza's "army" didn't have any mechanization, heavy artillery, etc. Picture small versions of Frieza's ship, with guns at those hull bulges, that uses the landing struts as legs. They move like spiders, are highly mobile and armed with anti-personnel weaponry.**

"Men,"shouted Pasdet, "to quell some rumors that have undoubtedly been circulating among you, I'm going to explain a few things. First of all, as you've probably already heard, we are on a planet that greatly resembles Namek, and we have verified it is populated by Namekians. Second, if records are correct, the Namekians are not a warlike people, and Frieza was not, I repeat _not_ killed by them. They aren't invincible monsters. The records state they are green-skinned humanoids with antennae, resembling upright slugs." However, they posses reasonable intelligence and are universally energy-sensitive. In your terms, they fire blasts from their hands, not from rifles. Don't underestimate them. With that said, the Army has come a long way since the old Namek. They will probably underestimate our new abilities. We've got a group of Namekians, probably warriors, inbound right now. I'll go out with my officers and try and talk to them. If that fails, you all know what to do. Break formation by fireteams, and take cover behind the crawlers. The energy sensitives among you can engage individually. Riflemen, DON'T shoot anything that isn't green. We've already contacted Tango Base with our discoveries, and reinforcements are inbound. Our orders are to establish a beachhead, if possible, but if things get too hot, which isn't likely, we can always retreat to the ship and stay in orbit. Everything clear?" He touched his open right hand to his left shoulder in the Imperium salute. "Gloria ad Imperium!" (Glory to the Empire!)

"GLORIA AD IMPERIUM!" the troops roared back.

**A/N: "Glory to the Empire" is just a battle cry I made up, not from the actual show. **

Turning, Pasdet beckoned his officers closer to him. All energy-sensitive, as was required for officers, their power levels varied between about 20,000 for the junior lieutenants, and 35,000 for the captain himself. Since the days of Frieza, who had seemed to take a perverse delight in pathetically weak subordinates, crude nanotechnology had become the norm for even the marginally energy-sensitive. It had an enormous effect on roughly standardizing the power levels per rank, and of course greatly elevated the rank-and-file power levels. Whereas in Frieza's day, the Ginyu Force's power of 40-50 thousand had been legendary, power levels of a hundred thousand were not unheard of in even the upper middle ranks. Rumors circulated that the higher echelons had powers approaching Frieza's, and as for the current Arcosians, well Koldaros had long ago proven his power to be nigh unfathomable, even for warriors of Frieza's caliber. Even his Enforcers could likely have beaten Frieza in his day.

"When the Namekians approach, don't make any threatening moves. There's about sixty of them, and with respectable power levels, and I'd rather avoid slaughtering a good chunk of our men, so we'll give diplomacy a try. They're likely to demand we leave the planet, but we need to make it clear to them we aren't the old Imperium. But this much water and this few people is just a waste. We could put this treasure to far better use. If it comes down to it, we'll fight for our spot here. That clear?"

Saluting, the officers jerked around simultaneously as their scouters went off. The screens displayed a large group of middling power levels, approaching fast. Glancing up, they saw several dots in the distance rapidly grow into a clump, then separate into individual Namekians, each surrounded by their flying aura. Angling towards the ground, they landed in quick succession, auras flaring and exploding as they touched down. Dressed similarly, they appeared similar to the records: green-skinned humanoids with antennae. A tall one in the forefront of the group stepped forward.

"Leave this place, devil-soldiers. You are not welcome here." He spoke in a strange, gurgling tongue, which their scouters quickly translated into Galactic Standard.

Captain Pasdet stepped forward, signalling his officers to stay back. "We come in peace, Namek. We do not serve Frieza, or his empire."

The Namekian cocked his head at the statement. "No? You wear the armor of his men, and come in force, like the last time."

"Yet we have not burned and desecrated your villages, nor attacked your people. We intend nothing foul towards your planet or your people"

"You have only just landed, and did so with many soldiers. Your actions contradict your words, and your very presence desecrates this planet. If you truly intend no harm, leave now."

With a sigh, Captain Pasdet stepped back and rejoined his officers. "I have orders to remain and cannot disobey them."

"And I have orders to drive you from our planet. I will fulfill them." Stepping back, the Namekian tossed his vest aside.* His comrades sank into fighting stances.

***A/N: Think of Nail, just before he fights Frieza.**

"Open fire!" roared Pasdet, and hurled himself into battle.

* * *

Goku, at the head of the Z-Fighters, hurtled through the air towards the landing site of the PTO ship. Thoughts raced through his head. Why did the PTO return? How did they find New Namek? Had they already alerted the rest of the Organization? Were thousands of troops at this very moment converging on the defenseless planet? Well, he amended, with them here the planet was no longer defenseless, but even the Z-Fighters couldn't fight off a full-scale invasion, or prevent the planet's destruction from high orbit. If the PTO indeed knew of New Namek's existence, and the Dragonballs it harbored, they might have no choice but to exterminate the problem at the root, something which he was reluctant to do, as it would almost certainly destabilize the galaxy again and cause billions of needless deaths. His musings were cut short as he sensed the Namekians' energy signals, which had remained constant, rising and clashing with those of the soldiers'. Cursing under his breath, he increased his speed, his clear-gray aura expanding, and he shot across the sky with renewed vigor.

**A/N: BTW, to everyone, if anyone has indeed read this story. If it isn't too much trouble, could you tell me how I'm doing? Its my first real foray into creative writing. Good? Bad? Awful?**


	6. Deception and Rejection

Lieutenant Hadraya traded punches, kicks and innumerable other blows with the burly Namekian warrior. Unlike the two she'd already killed, this one was more skilled, artfully choreographing his technique to land several blows on her midsection, shoulder, and face. In return, however, she'd pummeled his left flank and left a long scrape up his right arm. Both combatants were winded, but still had plenty of energy left. Nearby, the Namekian leader embroiled in a scintillating duel with Captain Pasdet, and seemed to have a slight upper hand. Unfortunately for the Namekians, however, the bulk of the sixty-odd Namekian warriors were steadily losing ground against the company of troops, which had long since split into fireteams and maneuvered deftly across the crater-strewn landscape. The four battle crawlers scuttled hither and yon, cannons blazing. Despite their best efforts, the Namekians had been unable to even cripple a single crawler, and the dozen casualties suffered at crawlers cannons had made it a costly failure. Under heavy fire from the soldiers and crawlers, the Namekians had retreated into a defensive semicircle on a small rise. A clever tactical contrivance, the elevation rendered the battle crawlers all but impotent, for their sponson-mounted cannons were incapable of sufficient elevation to properly target the Namekians. There, the forty or so remaining warriors fired blasts down the hill, stubbornly holding their ground against the repeated assaults of the Imperium troops.

With a loud crack, and accompanying howl of pain, Captian Pasdet reeled backward, right hand clutching at his left shoulder. The Namekian leader, instead of pressing the assault, leapt for the rear of the massed soldiers and swiftly decapitated four of them, helmets and all. In retribution, Hadraya swung a vicious left that impacted the Namekian on his right cheek, sending him stumbling backward and giving her the opportunity to hasten to her Captain's aid. Meanwhile, having attracted the attention of the semi-idle battle crawlers, the Namekian leader beat a hasty retreat towards the rest of his warriors, joining his burly subordinate in the process. Deftly evading several cannon rounds, they arrived at the hilltop relatively unscathed. By this time, Hadraya had helped her captain to his feet, verified that he had a broken collarbone, and administered a quick shot of regen-fluid.

**A/N: Regen-fluid is my semi-invention. Remember the regeneration tanks Frieza had? Well this stuff is just the fluid in packets, injected into wounds to numb the pain and facilitate healing. First aid and a painkiller. **

A temporary lull in the battle ensued, both sides having separated somewhat, and Pasdet took advantage of it to rejoin his troops. Rapidly taking stock of the situation, he assessed that his troops had suffered fourteen casualties, eight wounded, and two dead, plus the four decapitated bodies. The remaining troops all displayed varying degrees of armor deterioration, some with their energy-absorbing layers completely burned away. Glancing around the battlefield, he came up with a rough estimate of fifteen Namekians dead, and an unknown number wounded. Given that the Namekians had only began with sixty or so warriors, and had suffered slightly more casualties, Pasdet concluded that his men possessed sufficient strength to drive the Namekians from their position. Rallying his troops, he was in the process of organizing them when the troops' scouters flashed an alert: Eleven new power levels approaching very fast, all strong. Wheeling about, Pasdet barked to his troops: "We've got newcomers inbound. With the situation as it is, we've got the upper hand. Maybe these new Nameks will be more reasonable than this group. DON'T open fire unless they do first. Keep your scouters locked on them just in case, though." He'd scarcely finished when the eleven energy signatures manifested themselves as individual beings, flying in a V-formation. Squinting up at them, Pasdet frowned. It was hard to tell, but it appeared that the lead figures weren't Namekians. As they angled towards the ground, swinging their bodies upright, he was proven correct: the newcomers appeared to be bipedal humanoids, but definitely not Namekians. Their generic skin color and build could have classified them as any number of species in the Imperium. But why were they here?

Surveying the battle site, Goku mentally tallied up the remaining energy signatures. It appeared as though the Namekian warriors had retreated a short distance, to a small hilltop and were preparing a defense there. A much larger group of what were undeniably PTO soldiers, along with some large spider-like vehicles that he'd never laid eyes on before, massed at the base of the hill, probably preparing an assault. As he saw the strewn bodies, most of them Namekian, his lips compressed into a grim line. The Z-Fighters had been too late to prevent initial hostilities and their subsequent deaths, but Goku was determined that no more Namekians should die here. No great shakes at tactics, Goku decided to simply land in front of the PTO soldiers and evict the interlopers from Namek, by force if necessary. Diving, he beckoned to the rest of the Z-Fighters and swung his body upright, landing in the no-mans' land with a crack as his flying aura dispersed around him. In quick succession, Gohan and Vegeta landed on either side, with Piccolo, Tien, Chiaotzu, and Yamcha behind them. The boys and Dende took up the rear.

Not wasting time on pleasantries, Goku glared at the PTO troops, addressing them in a stern, angry tone: "Why have you come here? Why have you again brought war to these peaceful Namekians? Apparently you haven't learned you lesson from what happened on the old Namek!"

Stepping forward, a bulky purple humanoid answered: "Who are you to ask us these questions? You're no Namekian; why are YOU even on this planet?"

"My name is Goku, and these Nameks are my friends! Tell me, why are you here? I thought the Planet Trade Organization was disbanded after Frieza died."

"Well then, you seem more reasonable than your Namekian friends. My name is Captain Pasdet, of the IRN _Spearhead_, scouting frigate for the Interstellar Republic. We came across this undocumented planet while on a long-range patrol of the Dominion frontier. We realized that such a treasure trove of waste, just lying here unused was a waste, what with the perpetual scarcity of water in the galaxy. We were only going to establish an initial beachhead on this planet, determine if it was inhabited or not, when we landed. No sooner had we landed than we were confronted by your Namekian friends over there, who demanded we leave. I tried to convince them that we had no ill intent, but they refused to listen and demanded we either fight or leave. We had orders to stay, and were therefore forced to fight. Now that you're here, perhaps you will hear us out?"

Goku frowned. This man spoke eloquently, and seemed reasonable, not at all like the power-mad Frieza and his cohorts. Nevertheless, he was still a PTO soldier, judging by his armor, and he'd killed several Namekians. Pondering for a few seconds, Goku turned to his compatriots. "Well guys? What do you think? Is this guy sincere or what?"

"No way, just look at those guys! Frieza's men if I ever saw any!" Krillin vehemently rejoined. "We can sense their power levels, let's just blast them."

"Well, Dad," said Gohan hesitantly, "I'm going to have to say that these guys don't actually seem that bad. I'm pretty sure that Captain isn't lying."

Goku pondered their inputs before turning to the tall Namekian who had thus far remained silent. "Hmmm, how about you, Piccolo? It's your planet, what do you think?"

"I like to say we kill them all, right now, for the warriors they killed, but... I'm pretty sure that he's telling the truth about himself. I'm don't want to add more bodies to the pile over a simple mistake. Let's just evict them. We can always use the Dragonballs to wish back the warriors."

Goku nodded, and turned back to the waiting Pasdet. "Alright, we've agreed that you're telling the truth. But I've got some more questions for you. What is this Republic you're talking about? What happened to the galaxy after Frieza died?"

It was Pasdet's turn to frown. Puzzled, he opened his mouth to answer, but was too surprised to actually say anything. How could this newcomer not have heard of the Republic, or known of the War of Devolution? Had he been living under a rock for the past thirteen years? Realizing he was standing there with his mouth hanging open, Pasdet hastily collected himself. "Well, um, I don't really know where to start. I thought everybody in the North Galaxy would have heard of the Republic, and at the very least, known of the War of Devolution. I can tel you all about the past thirteen years, but I'd like to get this issue resolved first. Will you let us stay here and establish a base? That's all we wanted to do in the first place, assess an unknown planet and investigate its resources."

At this, Piccolo stepped forward. "I believe your story, strange as it is, but you are not welcome here. We are a peaceful people who enjoy our isolation, and don't welcome outsiders, especially those who come in force. You can put this planet on your charts and mark it as independent of whatever government rules now. As for our water, it is our lifeblood, and we won't have foreigners taking it away to likely extort those without. Just go, and be glad we let you."

Pasdet scowled. "I thought you would be more reasonable than the others, but you Nameks and your friends are all the same. This water is an extremely valuable resource, and it's all just going to waste here. You can't possibly need ALL of it, and there are many millions who die of dehydration every year. You'd be doing many poor souls a favor if you let us take some of this water."

His appeal on humanitarian grounds swayed both Piccolo and the rest of the Z-Fighters, who hesitated slightly. Nonetheless, Piccolo was determined to protect the sanctity of his homeworld, regardless of what the rest of the galaxy might need. To help those in need of it was what Goku lived for, however, and he was all but swayed Pasdet's side when help for the Namekian cause came from an unusual source.

"He's lying. He only wants the water because it's more valuable than anything else in the galaxy. It'll make him a rich man, or more likely, earn him a promotion and a medal for giving it to his superiors. Water's scarce throughout the galaxy, but the synthesizers have always been more than enough to keep the people alive. Synthesized water's got an awful taste to it though, 'cause of the trace ammonia that's too expensive to remove for the common people. Actual pure water's no better than the synthesized; it just tastes a whole lot better and so its a delicacy for the rich. This much pure water will sell for a pretty penny." Vegeta stepped forward, smirking at the now-cursing Captain Pasdet. "Isn't that right, Corporal?"

"It's Captain now, you filthy monkey, and I'm as strong as you now. In fact, most of the officer corps is, a few million of us. Nanotechnology is a wonderful invention, isn't it? As for the water, if you won't give it to us, we'll just have to take it." Pasdet sneered back.

Vegeta just laughed, a long, loud, mocking laugh. "You, as strong as me? Maybe as strong as I used to be, but I've improved a lot in thirteen years. In fact, I don't even think you're worth my time. The Namek here can take care of this. I'm sure he's angry enough anyway." Turning to Goku, he asked, "How about it Kakarot? What do you say we just sit this one out?"

Before he could respond, Piccolo interjected, "Yeah, you all stay out of this. I owe this guy for what he did and tried to do to my people." Turning back to the invaders, he strode towards them, coming to a stop about fifty meters away, a seven-foot tall colossus, cape billowing impressively.

Pasdet was unimpressed. "One Namekian against all of us? Well, I'll give you points for bravery, but you've signed your own death warrant. Show this fool Namek what happens to those who defy the Imperium!"

Hadraya had been uneasy for a while now, watching the captain's feigned diplomacy. While she wanted that promotion and fame just as much as the captain, she disliked deceiving the Namekians about their true intentions. His initial statement about the procession of events, and their orders were true enough, and they hadn't actually intended to harm the Namekians. However, it was more than a little untrue to say that millions died of dehydration, and that the water would alleviate the problem. She would have preferred openly declaring why they needed the water (for profit), but the captain was an old-timer from the Frieza days, albeit a somewhat more moderate one, a master con artist even if he wasn't a sadistic bastard. Nevertheless, she joined with the troops, who fired a barrage of blasts at the lone Namekian. He disappeared under the hail of energy, which sent up a massive cloud of dust and pulverized rock.

"Well, so much for that fool. Who's next?"

"The only fool here is you, Pasdet. Your greed has been your undoing. You should have left when you had the chance." Piccolo stood unharmed amid the torn soil, having not even bothered to block the pathetically weak blasts.

"Impossible..." the stunned Pasdet gasped.

"Good-bye." Piccolo's eyes flashed and a pair of blasts pierced Pasdet's armor, energy-absorbing layers and all, like tissue paper. Mortally wounded, the captain staggered backward, collapsing against one of the battle crawlers. He mumbled "It's impossible...", one last time, before succumbing to death.

The stunned Imperium troops could only watch as their strongest member died from a single blast. The perpetrator had withstood their combined blasts without the slightest damage, and now stood glaring at the rest of the Imperium troops. Only years of discipline prevented them from succumbing to terror, and they instead looked to their now-commander Hadraya for guidance. No fool, Hadraya knew that attempting fulfill their orders of establishing a beachhead would only get them all killed. In any case, she hadn't approved of the Captain's methods, and especially didn't now, since they'd gotten him killed. Her train of thought was interrupted when Piccolo spoke again., in a deceptively calm tone,

"Now, if the rest of you have half a brain, you'll get off this planet before I really get angry."

By her oath of enlistment, it was Hadraya's sworn duty to obey her superior officers, even if she disagreed with their decisions or methods. She had done this, swallowing her protests at Pasdet's methods. By tradition, it was also her duty to avenge her superior's death and punish the slayer who had so flagrantly flaunted the authority of the Republican Army. In this case, however, she was incapable of obeying. Even though she knew it was their only choice, her pride still screamed at her when she muttered, "Back to the ship," and shambled off at the head of what were now her new, beaten troops.


	7. Factions Assemble

**A/N: Sorry for the update delay, school kind of rudely intervened. Damned Quantum Physics. Sincere thanks to tortoricin for the detailed review. It will be taken to heart. As for any other readers, please review. They can really expedite the writing process; unless you're an author, you don't know the catalyzing effect of a review on inspiration to write.**

"Pasdet was a fool. A traitorous fool, too if he was going to sell the water instead of turning it over to us. But he was right in thinking that water was invaluable. It would bring enormous wealth to the Republic, just the kind of money we need to fund an intergalactic war." Lieutenant-Colonel Jakoti addressed the same assembly of officers, minus one Captain, he had spoken to just a few weeks prior, before the incident on New Namek. "I've received instructions from High Command again. Based on the information gathered by you loyal officers, the brass has determined that the Serpentine Dominion is the more vulnerable of our two neighbors. As we speak, the conventional Army and Navy are mobilizing. By years' end, we'll be at war. This planet, as our closest major base to the Dominion border, will serve as our supply depot and assembly point for the spearhead of our invasion. The First, Sixth, and Eighth Fleets are all currently en route."

A hush settled over the assembled soldiers as they pondered the imminent war. An intergalactic struggle would undoubtedly bring immeasurable pain and suffering, and they would be at the very heart of the conflict.

"But, that's some time in the future. It'll take three or so months at least for the fleets to just get assembled. In the meantime, we've got a VERY important assignment to carry out. As I was saying earlier, the water Pasdet discovered before getting his chest staved in is of incredible value. Apparently, High Command agrees with me, and we've got orders to secure it at all costs. Wars are expensive, and High Command tells me the Confederation is willing to pay a steep price for a planet-load of water. As such, it is IMPERATIVE that we secure the water, regardless of whatever native resistance Pasdet might have run into. Destroying the planet is obviously NOT an option. The brass has made the requisitioning of the water a top priority. Unfortunately, assuming you haven't read the report filed by Pasdet's XO, there are some warriors, not Nameks, of fearsome prowess that seem to be protecting the Nameks. As such, the 127th Legion has been dispatched to reinforce us. Naval reinforcements are unnecessary, since the Nameks don't have a navy. After that ignominious debacle Pasdet bungled, we've lost the element of surprise. We'll be going in full force, simultaneous drops, shock and awe. If we're lucky, we can cow the Nameks into making some kind of treaty without violence. Since, my subordinates have proven themselves incompetent, I'll be personally leading this foray, and I've been authorized to offer resources, technology and membership in the Republic as bargaining chips. That failing, the 127th is at full strength and well-trained. 125,000 troops ought to be able to take that miserable rock, fearsome warriors or no. All right. That's it for now. You all will be accompanying me on the _Adjudicator. _I need some men I know are reliable at my back. After our success, High Command has promised us leave until the outbreak of hostilities. That's a couple months of vacation for the guys who weren't paying attention. Dismissed."

Saluting smartly, the officers filed out, most filled with eagerness, and some anxiety, for the upcoming venture. Lieutenant Hadraya, near the rear, hesitated a moment before turning and following the rest of the officers out of the room.

Aboard the _Cavernous_, the enormous troop transport housing the 632nd Division of the 127th Legion, the quartermasters were occupied dispensing equipment to the congregation of troops milling about confusedly. Racks of rifles and crates of armor were somewhat haphazardly strewn around the gigantic gathering hall. Amidst the chaos, a bastion of serenity occupied a corner of the vast hall. The contingent of 102 Enforcers, on direct orders from Koldaros himself, had been ostensibly dispatched to ensure that the job was handled well by the regular grunts. However, before departing their quarters on Arcos, Koldaros himself had personally briefed them. High Enforcer Ulharios, commanding the company of 100, recalled the meeting. Koldaros had spoke to them of a legend, a rumor he'd heard from his father, in the days of Frieza. It was said that the reason Frieza had gone to Namek, the desolate backwater, was because there was a treasure of unimaginable value there. What the treasure was, however, was somewhat unclear. Apparently, it had something to do with a dragon, but that was all Ulharios and his men had heard before being dismissed. Koldaros had only told the extraneous member of their contingent, the 102nd Arcosian who was currently hovering and meditating in the actual corner of the hall, whatever specifics of this fabled treasure he was cognizant of.

Helkarios, one of the hundred Hierarch Enforcers, and two full grades higher ranked than Ulharios, hovered, aloof and serene even among aloof and serene Enforcers. Though theoretically attached to his unit as a personal representative of Koldaros, Ulharios resented his presence, knowing that it was Helkarios who was actually in command of both this contingent and expedition. Nonetheless, a part of him was reassured to have such a revered and reputed warrior present. After all, it was on Namek that Frieza had met his demise, the supposedly-invincible Arcosian brought to his knees by a still-unknown force. Now that Namek was back, the Arcosian rumor mill was operating at double overtime, and if even a fraction of the rumors were correct, then Ulharios would be utterly thankful for the presence of Helkarios. Even though Frieza's might had long ago been surpassed by a thousand times, the fear of a once-invincible Arcosian warrior falling on a remote backwater planet lingered like a horror story told to frighten children at night.

Shaking his head to disturb his musings, Ulharios stood and retrieved the crate containing his units' equipment. If the grunts were arming themselves, he ought to do the same to his own men. Tearing open the lid, he distributed the Enforcers' stylized armor, a far more advanced version of the energy-absorbing model donned by rank-and-file troops. Helmets were next. Almost fully enclosed, their headdresses and crests signified the rank of the wearer. His own, as a High Enforcer, bore a modest flame crest atop the standard jagged wave insignia. Spotting a far more elaborate helm with a triple-lightning insignia and delicate gold filigree, he scowled before scooping it up and placing it near Helkarios, who failed to acknowledge him in the slightest. Opening another crate, Ulharios extracted Katchin swords, the primary weapons of the Enforcers. Unlike the regular troops, the Enforcers fought in a more traditional style, utilizing melee weaponry instead of rifles and other projectile launchers. Energy blasts sufficed for the ranged confrontations. Belting his own on, he scowled again before snatching a intricately decorated set of armor and matching sword inlaid with wire-thin streaks of gold from the crate and once again depositing them at the feet of Helkarios.

As the _Cavernous _hurtled through the distant reaches of Republic space, their objective was not lying idle...

"Well, do you think they'll be back?"

"Of course they will; do you think they'd just give up that easily?"

"Well, I hoped..."

"Don't be a fool, Dende. The PTO knows we're here now, but all they care about is an untapped wealth of resources on the planet. They'll be back. In fact, I'm surprised they haven't come yet. But the Captain did say they were on a long-range patrol. They probably had a delay in receiving the news."

"Can we stop them? I mean, even with Goku and the others, we don't really know how strong these guys have gotten in the past thirteen years."

"Well, there's no real way of knowing, but I'm fairly confident nothing out there is stronger than Goku is. And, of course, Gohan is even stronger than he is. We've pushed ourselves at an incredible pace, what with the recurring crises on Earth. I'm more worried about numbers. If the power levels of the troops was anything to judge by, the average fighting ability of the PTO grunts has skyrocketed. With enough of them, we could be in some serious trouble."

"Piccolo, what if they blow up the planet?! I just thought of that and it seems by far the most reasonable solution if I was their commander. Goku and the others may have strength, but even they, not to mention us, can't survive without air."

"I know, Dende, and I've thought about it too. I think it's pretty unlikely, given that they want resources, and not chucks of debris. They seemed especially interested in the water, and there's no way they'd be able to harvest that if they blew the planet up. But just in case, we'll be able to sense that kind of energy attack incoming, and Goku can just use Instant Transmission to destroy it. Failing that, and if worst comes to worst, we've always got Earth's Dragonballs."

"Well, I guess you're right. How long do you think we're going to have to wait for them to show again? Goku and the others are already bored, and I'm _in abstentia_ right now as Guardian."

"Any day, really. If they haven't shown by the end of the week, I think we'll probably go. But this isn't an isolated incident like the others. The entire galaxy is unified again, according to that fool of a Captain, and they know we're here. One way or another, we'll most likely be entering society again."

"Really? Our people don't really want or need any outside contact. Are you sure that'll happen?"

"It's inevitable. They won't leave us alone until we do. In the old times, Namek was a great hub of galactic society anyways, before the drought. Maybe it will become one again."

"Maybe... I just hope it won't be bloody."

"Well, if it does, we'll make sure it's not our blood. Count on that." Turning, Piccolo gave his younger half-brother a fanged smile, warm for all its menacing appearance, and strode to the Elder's house to get some peaceful mediation. Dende likewise retired for the night, ducking into the house he shared with his long-lost brother Cargo. And across the village, sentries scanned the sky, alert for any sign of an incoming invasion.


	8. First Contact

Night turned to day on Namek, as fifty thousand meteors lit up the sky above the Namekian villages. The sentries posted at every village, who had scanned the sky for weeks since the repulsion of the PTO scout ship, cried out in pain as the drastic light shift temporarily blinded them. Elders and children streamed from their homes, only to join the blinded outside clutching at their eyes. The Z-Fighters and the warriors, however, battle-hardened as they were, rapidly utilized their other senses to secure the villages with defensive perimeters. In the time since the first attack, the Namekians and Z-Fighters had undergone extensive war planning and preparations, knowing full well that the PTO would undoubtedly be back, and in force. Despite the surprise of the night attack, they acted with calm efficiency, using telepathy and their uninhibited senses to herd the villages into the prepared bunkers, and hastened to the defensive fortifications that surrounded each village.

To ensure universal safety, all combat-capable beings on Namek had been distributed into seven task forces, each of which guarded a Dragonball and its assigned village. The captured weaponry and armor from the PTO soldiers had been apportioned to the weaker warriors, roughly equalizing the strength of the task forces. Each village had assigned to it ten warriors, plus at least one Z-Fighter. Goku, assigned to no village, was to use Instant Transmission to give aid where it was most needed. Gohan was assigned to first village, Vegeta guarded the second, Tien and Chiaotzu the third, Krillin and Yamcha the fourth, Goten the fifth, Trunks the sixth, and Piccolo and Dende elected to remain at the Grand Elder's village. Underground shelters had been constructed with telekinesis for the safety of the civilian populations at each village, and simple drills had been worked out in case of an attack. Thus, each village, in spite of the initial shock, within the first half an hour, was seemingly deserted save for the manned fortifications.

No sooner had the villages been secured than the first earthquake shook the ground. Thousands upon thousands of meteorites crashing into the ground raised enormous quakes throughout the planet. Tremors rocked the underground shelters, which fortuitously held with only minor collapses. The aboveground defenses however, had not been constructed so sturdily, and several trenches collapsed during the earthquake. Luckily, however, the warriors' higher power levels prevented any injury, and with the exception of a few collapsed fortifications, the Namekian defenses remained wholly functional. Unable to do anything else, the defending warriors hunkered down and readied themselves for battle.

* * *

Ulharios cursed as he smashed open the door of his drop pod. Stepping out into the fresh air of Namek, he gingerly rubbed his left side, which had taken the brunt of the impact with the surface of Namek. He loathed the drop pods, and disagreed with Jakoti's choice to send all the troops to Namek inside them. Designed for rapid insertion into a heavily defended planet, the drop pods were essentially energy-shielded canisters, with a single soldier loaded inside. Highly cramped and uncomfortable, it was not unheard of for the energy shield to be depleted by atmospheric entry and condemn the poor occupant to a gruesome death upon impact. Nonetheless, they were usually highly effective in preserving the lives of troops as AA fire was extremely difficult to direct against such a multitude of tiny objects. In this case, however, gathered reconnaissance intelligence had clearly indicated that the Namekians had no AA defenses to speak of, and barely any warriors. It was hardly necessary, in Ulharios's opinion, to even use the pods, let alone subject elite troops to such an indignity. They were Enforcers, after all, and were perfectly capable of shielding a slow-moving shuttle from any pathetic attacks the Namekians might launch. But Jakoti had insisted they use the pods in a disgusting display of solidarity with the common cannon fodder, and although Ulharios, as a High Enforcer, was not technically in the chain of command, Jakoti was the Overseer of Sector Omega-17, and thus had _de jure_ command over all military units in his Sector. Helkarios, although he held _de facto_ command over the entire operation and hence the authority to contradict Jakoti, had declined to intervene for the Enforcers, but had sagaciously accompanied Jakoti and the command staff down aboard the command shuttle.

Bending and scooping his helmet from the wreckage of his pod, he checked the integrated scouter to find the assembly point chosen by Jakoti. As per their pre-drop briefing, Jakoti had landed his shuttle, with his personal staff and guards, and the bulk of the legion's armor at the largest of the seven population clusters, barely crude hamlets by galactic standards. The majority of the legion had dropped in a rough rectangle centered on the assembly point. The idea was to awe the Namekians with their numbers and sheer firepower, hopefully intimidating them into a peaceful resolution. As such, Ulharios thought, a company of Enforcers wouldn't hurt the fear factor. Rounding up his company, most of whom had retained their tight drop formation, Ulharios leapt into the sky and headed for his rendezvous.

Lieutenant-Colonel Jakoti set his command shuttle down immediately adjacent to the largest cluster of population on the planet- the scanners had detected some fifty life-forms earlier, concentrated in the dwellings, but now only some ten were registering, scattered about the perimeter. He surmised the locals had likely taken refuge, and only the warriors remained. Nine of the power levels detected were roughly equivalent to his soldiers', being slightly higher on average. The tenth, however, was well over fifty times the next largest. All the better then, he could deal with the true authority immediately. Beckoning imperiously to his entourage, Jakoti strode down the lowered ramp and into the area starkly illuminated by the shuttle's floodlamps. Near the rear of the group, Helkarios, clad in full, ornately decorated armor, trailed slightly behind, maintaining a studied distance from Jakoti and his staff. The party bunched uncertainly at the foot of the ramp, and the guards took up positions at the edge of the group, warily scanning the darkened houses. There appeared to be no sign of life, but the warriors had to somewhere close, and only a dead man could have missed their arrival. Surely they would be contacted-

"What are you doing here again?" A bold, yet, guarded voice rang out. Scouters flashed in warning, and a shadowy figure seemed to materialize from the blackness directly opposite the shuttle ramp. He remained half-illuminated, a vaguely threatening figure. Only slight details of his face could be made out.

Swinging around, Jakoti stepped forward to differentiate himself from his subordinates. "I am Lieutenant-Colonel Jakoti of the IRN _Adjudicator,_ Overseer of Sector Omega-17 and commanding the 127th Legion. This planet, previously unknown, was discovered by one of my scout ships, the _Spearhead_. They landed and attempted to initiate contact with the inhabitants, but received a...hostile reception at the hands of Namekians, who we thought extinct, and a group of unknown humanoids. I presume you are one of the latter?"

"Correct. We are...friends of the Namekians, who are most certainly not extinct, no thanks to you PTO troops. This is New Namek, and you are as unwelcome here as you were on Old Namek. I'll give you the same chance we gave to the others. Leave, now, and you can go unharmed. I trust you'll be wiser than your subordinate."

"I'm not here to-

"I don't care what you're here for. Leave."

"Let me finish. This planet holds a copious amount of liquid water, which I assume you know to be of value. We are here to requisition it in the name of the Interstellar Republic; we're prepared to offer suitable compensation for it, but we need that water."

Jakoti had timed his sentence to coincide with the arrival of the Enforcers, and the first mechanized battalion of the legion. With a ominous _whoosh_ of air, and thunderous crash of impact, fifty Juggernauts plunged from the sky, accompanied by a hundred or so smaller APC's. The Juggernauts rapidly took up positions surrounding the villages, while the APC's disgorged a dozen men each before flanking the Juggernauts.

**A/N: The Juggernauts are another of my inventions; envision giant three-segmented tank-esque vehicles, armed with a cannon atop each of the segments, superfired so that they can all fire forward, if need be. Plus numerous antipersonnel weapons mounted on the angled slab-sides. As for the APC's, I ran out of creativity, and all APC's are the same basic structure anyways: think of metal boxes with a machine gun on the top. **

Of much more significance, however, was the company of Arcosian Enforcers that fell from the sky and assembled behind Helkarios. If the jerk from the shadowy figure was any indicator, they were at least somewhat startled by the display of overwhelming force.

"Well, let's discuss compensation now, shall we?" Now with a thousand troops and a substantial smount of firepower at his back, Jakoti was unable to keep a slightly gloating tone from his inquiry.

The figure, although it was difficult to discern in the half-illumination that he still stood in, seemed to...smile?

"Leave. This is your last warning."


	9. The Battle Begins

**A/N: Wow, it's really been awhile since I updated. Sorry for the month-long delay; my brother came for a visit, and then I had a few track meets and finals week. Anyways, enjoy!**

_Sector 4-Beta, Planet Torselaro, Age 775, Present Time _

Petinya swallowed hard, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, but she forced them back and kept her voice steady. "Farewell, my son. I know you'll make your father proud. Take...take care of your brother for me, will you? He needs you."

Her son, Duletr, tall and grim in his battle armor, nodded, face set, full of dedication and resolve for the arduous journey ahead. His little brother, nineteen years old and barely a man, grinned obliviously at his aunt in the hallway outside, laughing at some inane joke. "Don't worry Mom, I'll keep him safe. The war shouldn't take very long... at least that's what the Lieutenant told us. We'll be back by year's end, next summer at the latest." His words, though expressed with hope, held within them the unspoken implication, the unvocalized fear, that instead of her son returning, Petinya would instead face a bland electronic notification that her son "had gloriously perished while valiantly safeguarding the Republic". Shouldering his rifle, Duletr strode from the room, beckoning to his brother as he went. In the square outside, over 100,000 men, now drafted as soldiers, had assembled to await the gargantuan troop carrier that would take them to their new life. Although the purpose of the draft was officially classified, it was an open secret among the population that war was imminent. A government, after all, did not raise millions of soldiers for no purpose. The press, basking in its uncensored freedom, openly speculated on the opponent, much to the military's frustration at having its secrets blatantly bandied about. Despite repeated attempts by army officers to restrict the media, and several lawsuits on the matter, the courts, in a rare display of defiance to the military, had unanimously ruled that the freedom of the press was supreme, and that the stories were allowed to run.

As gusts of wind from the descending metal leviathan blanketed the assembled troops, Duletr squared his shoulders, giving a quick smile to his brother, and stepped into line, marching on to his new future.

_Sector Omega-17, Planet New Namek, Age 775, Present Time_

Jakoti, dumbfounded at the mysterious stranger's show of complete lack of fear, could only stand and gape for a few seconds, unable to act or even respond. Behind him, Ulharios had had enough with Jakoti's fumbling negotiations. It was blatantly clear to him that this stranger wasn't going to acquiesce to any kind of bargaining. And seeing as diplomacy had entirely failed, it was time to enact Plan B. Stepping forward, Ulharios powered up, enough to match the stranger's energy output, according to his scouter. "Perhaps we haven't made ourselves clear. We came for the water, and we'll get it, one way or another. If you just want us to leave-", he unsheathed his sword in a lightning motion, leveling it at the stranger, "-then make us."

Silence. Ulharios stood in the circle of light, sword pointed at the stranger, who still stood, unmoving, at the border of light and dark. Then, the shadow cast by the stranger stretched, elongated, and finally broke as he stepped forward, into the light, revealing himself to the interlopers. A tall, muscular humanoid stood at the edge of the light, with spiky, rigidly upright, black hair and clad in an orange _gi _with blue undershirt. Blue wristbands, boots and a belt completed his ensemble. Though weaponless, he radiated the ability to kill without one. A slight smile, amused and somewhat mocking, adorned his face. "Very well. So be it."

Ulharios's form blurred and disappeared as he sprang forward, a cloud of dust and a crater forming from the force of his launch. His sword flashed for a brief instant as he lifted the blade, before bringing it down in a devastating strike- which cleaved the air harmlessly Gohan leapt clear of the blow's path. A fist struck back, ripping the air a fraction of an inch from Ulharios's head as he ducked the blow. Whipping his legs forward, Ulharios attempted a whip-kick to the Gohan's torso, which was also evaded, but his tail, sweeping low, caught the stranger mid-dodge, dealing a sharp blow to the ankle and sending the stranger spinning wildly towards the circle's edge. Twisting into a perfect backflip, Gohan landed in exactly the same position he had started from. "Not bad, Arcosian, your race has definitely improved since the old Namek."

Shock rippled through the ranks of soldiers. If this stranger had been on Namek, and fought an Arcosian there, that meant he had battled Frieza, and if his ability thus far was anything to go off of, he easily outclassed the former Emperor handily. Which meant, of course, that he had likely been the one to defeat him...

"So, the vanquisher of Frieza has been revealed. No matter, Frieza was a weakling compared to what our race is now capable of. But my victory will be all the sweeter knowing that the legendary warrior who slew him will fall at my hands."

Gohan, far from cowed, merely chuckled. "Well, it's not like I haven't improved in the past thirteen years too. I'm interested to see how far your race has progressed. Far enough to give me a challenge?"

With a roar of fury, Ulharios powered up, raising an enormous cloud of dust and carving an immense crater from the earth under his feet. Energy crackled and whirled across the sky, flashing down to form a cocoon of pure power around him. It expanded, swelling to encompass the entire assembly of soldiers, before contracting back to Ulharios. Stepping out of the crater his energy had formed, Ulharios dispersed his aura. Lighting crackled up and down his form before also fading. "Surprised? I told you we'd improved. Now its time for you to see it in action!" Disappearing in a blur, Ulharios rematerialized behind Gohan, lunging forward in an attempt to run him through and end the fight in a single blow. The sword pierced the stranger's torso easily, projecting a good foot from his chest. "Hah! Am I a challenge now, you worthless fool? I-"

"Not really." The conversational tone, mocking in its casualness, reached his ears. The stranger faded, Ulharios's sword now extending through nothing but air. "The Afterimage Technique is the oldest trick in the book. I'm rather disappointed you fell for it." Turning with a snarl of rage, Ulharios bit out, "Well, if you're so great, let's see you block this!" Stepping back, he raised his left hand and pointed it at Gohan, index finger extended. Eyes widening in memory, Gohan recalled how, thirteen years ago, Frieza had pointed at his father in the exact same manner. A thin purple beam sprang from Ulharios's finger, whipping towards Gohan's face. Lifting his right hand, Gohan swatted the Death Beam aside with ease, whereupon it exploded in the ranks of watching soldiers, causing a dozen casualties. All but foaming at the mouth, Ulharios, again like Frieza, launched a barrage of Death Beams, attempting to overwhelm his defense. A massive dust cloud, wreathed in explosions, replaced the figure of Gohan. Leaping a good twenty meters into the air, Ulharios channeled his power into his sword and dived, swinging a tremendous blow at the heart of the cloud. The ground exploded outward in a massive shockwave of energy and earth. Soldiers struggled for balance as the dirt beneath their feet swayed from the force. Slowly, the dust cleared. Ulharios stood at the center of a gigantic crater, a gaping fissure cleaving the earth on either side of his sword, which was planted deep in the ground. The stranger was nowhere to be seen. With a _whoosh_ of air, Gohan plunged from the sky and landed at the edge of the crater, at ground level.

"Wow, I am impressed. Your race really has improved. Not enough to be a challenge, but still impressive. But I'm not here to play games. You think you can take this planet, subjugate its people, and plunder its resources. But you made one mistake; you forgot that there are people who will fight back!" With a yell, Gohan summoned his clear-gray aura, his features sharpening as he tapped into his Mystic power. Hurtling forward, his right fist lashed out in a single, devastating blow. Ulharios's eyes widened, barely able to register the motion. Bracing himself, he brought his sword up, flipping it around, so the flat faced the oncoming blow, and gripped the tip in one hand. Gohan's fist struck the sword with crushing force. The Katchin blade groaned from the impact, held for an agonizing second, and shattered in a prismatic spray of metallic shards. Staggered from his sword breaking, Ulharios stumbled back, utterly unprepared for the bone-crunching uppercut Gohan delivered with his left hand. Sailing into the air, Ulharios's body landed with a dull _thud_ a few meters in front of the stupefied command party. He didn't move again.

Jakoti stood, gaping in awe at the mysterious stranger who had just shattered a supposedly unbreakable sword with ease, and downed a High Enforcer with a single blow. Completely astounded by the _thud _of Ulharios's body, his thirty-plus years of uniformed service took over. "Open fire!", he screamed at the thousand troops still surrounding this astonishingly powerful warrior. For a single instant, the troops hesitated. Then the Juggernauts fired their heavy cannons, and the rest of the battalion joined in. Energy poured like rain into the crater from the troops rifles, supplemented by the jaw-rattling crashes of the Juggernauts' cannons, and the high whine of the APCs' autocannons. The dome of energy built, swelled, and crescendoed, towering over the troops that still poured fire into it-

"Stand down." An imperative bark cut through the air at Jakoti's shoulder. Helkarios, all but forgotten, stepped forward. "You won't be able to hurt him like that. He's far too strong." As he spoke, the troops ceased fire, having received the order via their helmet communicators. "Colonel, I want you to take your men and retreat to the rest of the Legion. Regroup and surround the rest of the villages we detected, but do not engage them unless they attack. Leave this warrior to me." Helkarios beckoned, and Ulharios's body rose into the air, lifted by telekinesis. "And put him into a regeneration tank before he dies. The rest of you," he gestured to the Enforcers, "stay here." Removing his helmet, Helkarios drew his own sword and strode into the heart of the inferno.


	10. The Might of Gohan

**A/N: I'd first like to express my thanks to the readers and reviewers thus far. Your recommendations and criticism, Super Vegetarott and tortoricin, are amicably received. I've altered Ch. 9 slightly in an attempt to answer your request, tortoricin. I hope I can abide by your recommendations, both of the above, in this and following chapters. **

Helkarios, sword in hand, marched resolutely through the dying flames, head scanning the crater for any sign of the warrior. He knew well enough that the Saiyan wouldn't be harmed in the slightest by the troops' paltry efforts. From his confidential briefing with the Supreme Commander, he had learned of Koldaros's suspicions of surviving Saiyans. After Ulharios had called out the mysterious warrior out, his suspicions had been verified. Saiyans, it seemed, were a resilient breed, and unlike his foolhardy subordinate, he fully understood their prowess in battle. Ulharios had been a rash fool, overly reliant upon his scouter's readout, and had reaped the due reward for his arrogance. Helkarios, far more seasoned and battle-hardened, had no intention of doing the same. Unlike his subordinate, he was perfectly cognizant of both the ability to suppress energy, and that of sensing energy. Over three decades of campaigning on innumerable battlefields had honed his own capacity to do both, a rare feat even among the elite ranks of the Enforcers. Snorting in annoyance at the Saiyan's continued evasion of his eyes and senses, Helkarios raised a hand, telekinetically summoning a stiff gale that rapidly extinguished the lingering flames. Where the center of the inferno had once raised stood the Saiyan warrior, encased in an iridescent, translucent spherical shield of energy. As he watched, the dome shimmered and faded, leaving the Saiyan unscathed, a slight smirk on his face.

'So, haven't learned your lesson yet? Wasn't one beaten Arcosian enough?"

Helkarios halted. "Ulharios was a fool and a weakling. I am neither."

"Oh, so we've got some authority here do we? I feel important."

"Feel what you wish. You will still lose."

"I'm quaking in my boots here. Want to come and prove it?"

"As you wish." A blur, and Helkarios dematerialized, reappearing above Gohan. His sword flashed through the air, much as Ulharios's had done, but the power behind the swing was on an entirely different scale. As Gohan leaned to allow the sword to whistle past harmlessly, a three-toed foot connected forcefully with his shoulder, sending him spinning off to the left. Wheeling about, Gohan fired a golden blast back at Helkarios, who promptly deflected it harmlessly aside with a flick of his sword. The Hierarch Enforcer's eyes flashed, and a pair of purple eye lasers shot forth, to which Gohan dematerialized to evade. Reappearing behind Helkarios, he was confronted by an index finger between the eyes, and the point-blank Death Beam shot past his hear as he barely moved his head in time. A pommel strike to the ribs while he was still absorbed by the attempted energy attack expelled the air from his lungs, but Gohan nonetheless managed to seize Helkarios's descending wrist in time to halt the following overhand slash. An elbow to the abdomen served as his riposte, sinking into the Arcosian's gut and winding him in return. After weathering a sustained barrage of knee strikes, Helkarios caught Gohan's left fist, yanking him stumbling forward, but his planned follow-up was foildd when the Saiyan pushed off off the ground, flowing with the pull to headbutt him in the face. Staggering back, Helkarios whipped his tail around and swept Gohan's knees out before leaping backwards and reassuming his initial position near the edge of the crater.

Standing, Gohan dusted himself off and smirked. "Hmmm, it seems you're actually better than the last one. At least you can manage to fight back."

Recovering his breath, Helkarios scoffed and replied: "Don't patronize me, Saiyan, I can sense you've been holding back. Why don't we get down to the real battle now? I too have some hidden reserves."

Gohan arched his brows in surprise. "Really? You'll excuse me then, if I put your reserves to the test."

Summoning his aura again, he leapt forward, right fist extended, endeavoring to repeat the sword-shattering maneuver he had so effectively utilized against Ulharios. Helkarios, obliging him, braced himself and gripped his sword to block in the identical position that Ulharios had assumed. Like before, Gohan's fist impacted the sword with crushing force. But Helkarios was not his subordinate, and their swords were as antithetic as the wielders. The intricate gold streaks adorning his Katchin blade were far more than simple ornamentation. A potent rune was inscribed by the interlocking threads of gold, and the impact of Gohan's fist triggered the latent enchantment. The lines of gold glowed a brilliant white, and a blinding flash of white-gold light exploded from the blade. Gohan was sent hurtling backward, a stinging burn etched on his knuckles where they had contacted the sword. Clutching his hand in shock, Gohan was left open to the hefty haymaker to the jaw that accelerated his flight, smashing him into the crater and excavating another couple hundred cubic meters.

Helkarios hovered above the crater, scanning for any sign of Gohan's emergence. The earth shook abruptly, and wisps of whitish energy flowed from the heaped earth. A hoarse shout, and the piled rocks and dirt burst from the depths of the crater. Mystic Gohan, aura flaring around him, now powered up to a yet-unseen degree, ascended at a stately pace amidst the showering rubble. His obsidian eyes, now devoid of any amusement, reflected only the grim determination and bloodlust of a Saiyan warrior.

"Nice trick. But if you thought that was all it took to get rid of me, think again!" Bolts of concentrated energy whirled around him, and flashes of lightning intermingled as Gohan yelled, powering up even further. "It's time you saw what I'm really capable of!" Helkarios's eyes widened at the sheer energy pouring off the Saiyan. By his estimate, the Saiyan was rapidly approaching his own maximum power level, which, outside of friendly intra-Enforcer sparring, he had never experienced in an opponent. Hastily accessing his own reserves, Helkarios tapped into his deepest recesses of power, summoning his own pale blue aura and generating simultaneous sparks of bioelectricity. For a few moments, both combatants simply stood and maximized their energy output, each refraining from a peremptory strike in an unspoken truce. At truce's end, both warriors stood encased within dynamic auras, lightning crackling and flashing indiscriminately between them. Gohan, who had revealed roughly half of his total Mystic power, was very impressed by Helkarios's maximum. He judged the Arcosian to be roughly at the level Dabura had been when they had fought just a year ago, stronger than Perfect Cell had been at his maximum. Given that he was facing a member of Frieza's species, leagues below even the Androids, Gohan was somewhat surprised that an Arcosian had managed to achieve such power.

"Well, as you can sense energy, what do you say that you just give up and go home now?"

Helkarios, teeth gritted at the overwhelming power of the Saiyan, forced himself to objectively appraise his opponent's power, arriving at a conclusion of at least three times his own, perhaps even four. Realistically speaking, he knew he had only a slim chance, at best. But his orders and honor bound him to at least try.

"Your power is indeed astounding, Saiyan, but this fight isn't over yet." Rising into the air, Helkarios extended his index finger and gathered all of his energy, funneling it into the rapidly expanding orange-yellow sphere of energy building on his finger. Knowing that he only had a single chance to defeat the Saiyan, he decided to risk it all in an all-or-nothing gamble, focusing all his energy into a single, hopefully overwhelming Supernova.

Seeing his opponent preparing the planet-destroying orb, Gohan cupped his hands in the classic pose. Even though the likliehood that the attack would defeat him was slight, he didn't feel like risking the battle on his own vanity. "KA...ME...HA...ME..." Yellow energy built in his palms as he charged an Electric Kamehameha, thinking to blast the Supernova into space when it was launched.

Having completed the Supernova, Helkarios swept his hand forward, sending the comet-sized energy orb racing towards the figure of Gohan on the ground.

"HA!" The massive beam shot from Gohan's hands, sailing skyward and striking the Supernova mid-descent. For a long minute, the energy attacks struggled, each attempting to absorb the other and force it into their direction. But while the Supernova was a single-output attack, the Kamehameha was fed by a continuous stream of energy from the user. Straining to push the Supernova back, Gohan reached deeper into his energy supply. "HA!" He screamed again, and an additional bulge of energy shot up the length of the yellow beam. Impacting the Supernova, the sudden jolt destabilized the precarious equilibrium the two attacks had previously maintained, sending the collective mass of energy hurtling into the atmosphere. The exhausted Halkarios, having pushed all his energy into the Supernova, could only sink to the ground and contemplate his impending death. Composing himself, he reached for his discarded helmet, which had miraculously survived the titanic battle, hastily logging and dispatching a report of the encounter to the Supreme Commander.

Removing the helmet again, he gazed, strangely detached, at the descending figure of the Saiyan as he landed and dispelled his still-vibrant aura. As he regarded the mysterious warrior that had felled a once-mighty Hierarch Enforcer, something behind the tall figure caught his eye. Meteors were streaking through the sky, many, many meteors. It seemed as though there was another troop drop going on... a very, very big one. Too big for the troops they had left in high orbit. As Helkarios watched, the blinking star that was the troop carrier bulged, and burst, exploding in a bright puff of orange. Yet the shower of meteors continued inexorably, and Gohan suddenly halted, jerking his head up to scan the sky as he felt hundreds of thousands of new energy signatures approaching at high speeds. They weren't the semi-familiar, humanoid energy signatures of the PTO troops, though, they seemed...different, somehow, and more primitive. The fallen Enforcer all but forgotten, he turned as the first of the new arrivals struck the soil of New Namek.


	11. New Foes

_Sector Omega-17, High Orbit Above Planet New Namek, Thirty Minutes Prior to Present Time_

Lieutenant Hadraya paced uneasily across the command deck of the _Cavernous. _Since most of the higher echelons of command had elected to accompany Jakoti down to Namek, she, the disgraced veteran of the first expedition was ignominiously left station-keeping in high orbit. Presently, she was serving as a glorified switchboard operator, using the ship's communication relay to transmit messages between the various units scattered across the planet's surface. In addition, and of somewhat greater importance, there were some 75,000 troops of the 127th that were still onboard, awaiting the go-ahead from the top brass, which was currently planetside, to drop. However, as she was in _de facto _command, her superiors having elected to chase the glory, she nonetheless bore the responsibility of playing caretaker for the troops until approval to drop was given. Aggravatingly, nervously anticipatory, edgy troops were not the easiest to care for.

Abruptly, one of the officers, manning the sensor station, called out to her in a bemused tone, snapping her out of her contemplative reverie. "Ma'am, we've got a large group of small signatures approaching, broadcasting Serpentine FOF tags. They're hailing us."

Equally startled and befuddled, Hadraya ordered: "Accept, and put it on the main screen."

The sensor officer complied, and a large image sprang onto the center, largest display that dominated the far wall of the command center. Freshly adorning the formerly blank screen was an image of a reptillian, six-legged, worm-like creature with scaly chitinous hide. It resembled nothing so much as a grossly enlarged cross between a centipede and a snake, hence the name Serpentine.

Opening its sizable maw, which was lined with several prominent fangs, it growled in a decidedly un-reptilian tone. "Republic troops, what an unpleasant surprise. You are in Dominion space, softbellies, so clear out immediately. This is your only warning." The image suddenly winked out, replaced once again by the dull gray blank screen.

"Transmission terminated from their end, Lieutenant", stated the sensor officer, unable to keep an uncertain tone from his words.

"Thanks, I realized that. Get me a scan on the size and composition of the incoming force. And Communications, open a channel to the Colonel immediately."

A few seconds later, the sensor officer replied: "I routed the scan results onto your handheld, Lieutenant. Two light cruisers, three destroyers and three small troopships."

Biting back a curse, Hadraya turned and sank into the command chair, her mind racing. That kind of force, though no more than a reconnaissance-in-force by typical standards, was far beyond their ability, as a single unescorted troop carrier, to defeat. Though the _Cavernous _was outfitted with substantial shielding and defense mechanisms, their offensive capabilities were severely limited. She rapidly concluded that there was only one feasible option available, given the circumstances. They couldn't comply with the Serpentine's orders, as they would undoubtedly next investigate the ground presence, nor could they fight, so the best venue left was to join the ground troops, and fast.

"Order all the troops to their pods. Send the excess to the escape pods, shuttles, anything that can get us off this tub. We've got fifteen minutes, tops, before the Serpentines get in firing range, and anybody still on this boat when that happens is dead."

Within ten minutes, the ship was ringing with her orders, and with thousands of booted feet as the troops, all boisterousness gone, frantically ran, literally, for their lives. Impacts from the Serpentines' long-range plasma cannons had already began shaking the ship, and although the shields were still holding, the emergency panels were already lit, casting the chaotic corridors in a dim orange.

Hadraya supervised the mass confusion for a few minutes, then beckoned the command staff over to the port for their reserved shuttle, only to find a ungainly brawl underway in the corridor. Desperate troops, having found their pods stolen by opportunistic freeloaders, had attempted to storm the command staff's reserved shuttle. The three guards posted there were equally desperately beating them back with stun blasts and blows. A bolt of energy flew down the corridor, and one of the guards dropped with a burn mark in his armor. Drawing her pistol, Hadraya coldly shot two mutineers in the backs of their heads before they could turn around. As they struggled to fend off their new adversary, a hail of lethal blasts from the two remaining guards downed the other four rebels. Waving her hand, Hadraya shepherded the bridge crew into the shuttle before following them in with the two guards. After a few seconds, the pilot jettisoned the shuttle, and angled it towards the green slopes stretched beneath them.

"Where to ma'am?" The pilot inquired, glancing back at the Lieutenant. Before Hadraya could respond, a vicious shockwave rent the space behind them, buffeting the shuttle severely and setting off a few alarms. The troopship had just exploded under the barrage of cannon fire, enveloping a few hundred escape pods that hadn't escaped the blast radius.

"Just set us down near the Colonel." She replied wearily, attempting to get an idea of how many troops had managed to safely flee the _Cavernous_.

"Ma'am, the sensors report additional contacts. The Serpentine troopships have launched long-range insertion pods. They'll reach the surface in thirty minutes, tops."

Mentally spewing a stream of curses, Hadraya realized that the enemy had likely learned of the Republic ground presence, and the planet's wealth. The cursing intensified when she realized they hadn't been able to warn her superiors of the Serpentines, although they would surely notice that the _Cavernous _had been destroyed. Hopefully, they could postulate an incoming ground force as well. With the ship gone, so too were their long-distance communicators, leaving them with only the helmet-based scouters for relaying information and orders. And many of the troops currently plunging through Namek's atmosphere had undoubtedly neglected to bring their helmets in the hurried evacuation. There was no way to warn all or even a significant portion of the troops on the ground of the incoming hostiles. For the bulk of the unprepared Republic ground troops, the first warning would be when the pods hit the dirt and the fight started.

And, of course, with the ship gone, the Republic troops now had no way to signal back to base for reinforcements, while it was a sure bet the Serpentines were doing exactly that this instant. Ergo, in half an hour, shit would really hit the fan, and only get worse from there. She bleakly envisioned the monumental ass-chewing she was going to get for reporting this debacle to the Colonel. She'd probably be lucky to not get drummed out of the Navy entirely.

Abruptly, the shuttle rocked, and a bolt of plasma half again as big as the shuttle soared only a few thousand meters from their bow, vaporizing scores of escape pods in its wake. It seemed as though the Serpentines weren't done firing yet; they'd decided to thin their enemies' ranks as much as they could before the battle even began. Hadraya bit back another curse as more bolts followed the first, obliterating hundreds of defenseless troops in their pods. This just kept getting better and better. Of course, as another shudder ran through the shuttle and the Lieutenant heard the distinctive shriek of escaping air that preceded the total collapse of the shuttle, she'd forgotten that they too, were a target. At least, Hadraya thought wryly, she wouldn't be the one to make the disastrous report to the Colonel. A plasma bolt struck the beleaguered shuttle broadside, and Lieutenant Hadraya's thoughts abruptly ceased.

* * *

Watching the carnage, Prime Mind Yjk'kluth, in command of the Serpentine expedition, gestured towards one of his subordinates. Via the collective hive-mind of his battle, he ordered the troopships to launch all warriors at the earliest opportunity, and attack the Republic troops planetside. To find such treasure on an unmarked planet, so close to the border, was an unheard of stroke of luck. If the Serpentines moved quickly, they could play the injured party, claiming the Republic had unlawfully violated their borders in an attempt to covertly steal the water. As an ostensible motive for an invasion, it was a solid one. Yjk'kluth knew well enough that the High Minds desired another conquest, preferably at the expense of the Republic, but the Queen Mind needed some persuading. This planet could likely do the trick, and even better if they could start the war off with a decisive victory.

With that in mind, he signaled his communications officer to dispatch a request for a full battlegroup to rendezvous at this planet ASAP. In the meantime, he though, they could watch the beautifully morbid meteor shower created by the burning enemy bodies as they descended through the atmosphere.

* * *

_Sector Omega-17, Planet Caldaari, Tango Base, Present Time_

The viewscreen that composed the far wall of the command center of Tango Base displayed the gathering ships, milling about in a disorderly fashion, forming queues for the spacedocks. There were currently well over 7,000 ships, mostly from the First and Sixth Fleets, and the Eighth was slowly filtering in, emerging from the Conduit in bright flashes of spacetime.

"Admiral, sir, we've lost contact with the _Cavernous_. Its last transmission indicated that there was a sizable Serpentine force incoming."

The short, burly figure in the Vice Admiral's uniform nodded. "Very well, we cannot afford to lose that planet. If the Serpentines want a fight, then its a fight they'll get. Muster..." He glanced down at his data display, searching for the picket force's designation. "...Task Group 63.8 for action. Tell the commander to secure the planet at all costs, and authorize orbital bombardment, my authority. As long as the resources are unharmed, I don't care what happens to the rest of the planet."

"Aye, sir."

In the viewscreen, a cluster of a hundred ships, formerly on picket duty, angled out of the assembly area, ponderously realigning itself into three columns, standard traveling formation. With a burst of prismatic light, the ships triggered their onboard Pathfinders and vanished, heading for the last reported coordinates of the C_avernous_.


	12. The Battle of Namek

**A/N: Thanks again, readers and reviewers, for your continued patronization of my work. To apocalypse24, I respectfully disagree with your expressed point of view; but each to his own. To tortoricin, rest assured that I indeed intend to abide by your wishes and fully elucidate the various power levels of the characters and weaponry in my fic, as well as the capabilties and functions of the technology and equipment. Rather than release information on the relative power of the characters, ships, and weapons piecemeal, I am attempting to compile a comprehensive explication of all my created concepts' abilities. However, as you can imagine, it is a somewhat complex (and controversial, as illustrated by apocalypse24) task and I am currently working on realistically portraying my inventions to the satisfaction of you readers. **

_Sector Omega-17, Planet New Namek, Age 775, Present Time_

Private First Class Brintal shouldered his rifle and fired, the bolt of energy streaking towards the Serpentine drone. His target flattened itself on its belly, barely avoiding the lethal blast, and, straightening to full height, unleashed a torrent of plasma bolts from the multiple weapons it clutched in its four feet-hands. He wasn't quite sure whether the appendages branching from the Serpentine's segmented body were hands or feet; they seemed to be able to act as either, depending on the will of the owner. Currently, however, four were being used as "hands", employed in grasping various handheld plasma emitters of varying sizes. Sprinting back towards the rest of his squad, which had dug itself in on a shallow rise, the PFC felt a handful of hammerblows on his back and instant before he threw himself into his hastily-dug foxhole just in time to evade the hail of superheated death as it passed by. Gasping from both fear and exertion, Brintal sat up and noted that the energy-absorbing layers on the back of his armor were completely burned away. His squadmates were preoccupied with covering fire, but he offered a wry smile to Sergeant D'Apleio, who was scowling at the failure of his attempt to sneak out of their surrounded hilltop position. For the fourth time.

Thus far, he and the rest of his drop group had had a really, really bad day, or rather night, as dawn had just broken on the embattled troops half an hour ago. After hastily evacuating the _Cavernous_ just prior to its explosion, and enduring a harrowing ride down planetside under long-range plasma bombardment, the disorganized soldiers of fourteen different battalions had been immediately thrust into a wild melee of trigger-happy Republic troops and murderous Serpentine drones. Suffering casualties every step of the way, the ragtag group had managed to advance to this hilltop, under heavy fire from friendlies who lacked helmets and hence any way of verifying who they were shooting at were actually Serpentines.

The remaining hundred thirty or so men had dug in on the low rise, hoping to contact friendlies and find out what the hell was going on. The first bit of cheerfulness had come when they had successfully managed to signal the Republic troops that they were indeed friendlies and cease the friendly-fire. Following that, they had received a message via Battlenet of the CO's location and intention. Intending to join Jakoti on the plateau, the Second Lieutenant that had been in command at the time had led a squad to recon the path. They hadn't returned, and their dying screams were a grim verification that hostiles had surrounded the hill. Since then, the company-odd strength survivors had fruitlessly attempted to sneak out, only to be repeatedly turned back by plasma fire, as evidenced by Brintal's hasty retreat.

Scooping up his rifle where it had fallen in his undignified dive into the foxhole, Brintal turned and loosed a stream of fire back down the gentle slope, adding his fire to that of his compatriots. The pursuing Serpentine, which had recklessly chased Brintal halfway up the slope, screamed in a harsh, high-pitched keen as several blasts struck its flank. Struggling to turn and retreat to safety, another pair of blasts vaporized its middle segment, spewing blue-purple gore over the sandy hillside and intensifying the keening until further bolts put the drone out of its misery. Hunkering down for another assault, announced by a renewed torrent of plasma from the hill's base, Brintal slammed a fresh block of iron into the receiver on the underside of his rifle and rose to fire again.

* * *

_Sector Omega-17, Planet New Namek, Age 775, One Hour Prior_

Meteors carpeted the sky of New Namek, falling to earth in enormous cascades of plowed earth. Tens of thousands of craters rapidly carpeted the ground and at the center of each one was a drop pod. The fifty thousand Republic troops initially dropped on Namek, augmented by the abrupt arrival of the sixty-five thousand-odd survivors of the _Cavernous_ now found themselves facing an unidentifed number of Serpentine ground troops, which, man for man, were easily worth five Republic line infantrymen.

Though unquestionably superior, the Serpentines were also outnumbered; they compensated for their lack of numbers by means of the uncoordinated, utterly chaotic nature of the battle. The vast majority of the Republic troops were unaware that they would be facing enemies, both sides were scattered randomly across the length and breadth of a completely unknown planet with accompanying baffling terrain, and the bulk of the sixty-five thousand reinforcements lacked any means of communication more sophisticated than their voices.

In essence, the Battle of New Namek, as it had undeniably become, nearly instantaneously degenerated into a intraplanetary all-out brawl, with dispersed units haphazardly organized into loose bands by the ranking officer on the scene. Clusters of soldiers, ranging from a few dozen to ten thousand, fought off incessant assaults from roving Serpentine drones, who, in fairness, were little better organized than their opponents. Hasty fortifications and earthworks were thrown up, runners, smoke signals, and a plethora of other rudimentary contact methods were employed in a vain attempt to impose order on the tumultuous free-for-all that had resulted from a once-perfectly coordinated operation.

Lieutenant-Colonel Jakoti, who had complied with the orders of Helkarios and removed his men to surrounding positions, found himself beset on all sides without the slightest warning. Some of the interlopers now swarming frantically about the planet were friendlies, while some were most certainly enemies, but as the majority of both lacked any sort of FOF tags, communicating with unknowns was somewhat hazardous, to say the least.

Keeping his head and cool far better than he had previously; this was a conventional battle situation, after all, not an overturning of accepted realities, Jakoti was quick to realize that his men wouldn't be able to repel the assault. With no long-range communications, the fundamental foundation of orderly cohesion that the entire Republic military structure rested on was simply dysfunctional. His men were dropping in droves from the sky, but with only their rifles to protect them, they would soon be at the mercy of the Serpentine army.

While the Serpentines were equally disorganized physically, having been scattered across the planet in much the same manner as the Republic troops, their hive-mind would unify them mentally and strategically, easily facilitating perfect coordination among the widely dispersed drones. Moreover, with ships in orbit, they could effortlessly glean Republic troop positioning and at attack the men at their leisure. They could easily concentrate their troops to have overwhelming local superiority and maneuver with perfect ease while the Republic soldiers fumbled blindly across the vast steppes of the planet.

With little choice available, Jakoti decided to save what men he could instead of allowing them to be slaughtered in a hopeless battle against a superior enemy. Gathering all the men he could still contact, some twenty-seven thousand of them, he left a message on the Battlenet for stragglers and lucky soldiers who still possessed helmets and wandered into local broadcast range. Retreating to a high plateau to the west, relatively free of marauding enemies, he ordered his men to fortify the position and await reinforcements that he hoped were inbound. Fortunately for Jakoti, a preponderance of the 127th 's heavy equipment, including artillery, AA batteries, and armor, were near the Lieutenant-Colonel when the _Cavernous_ went down, so the Republic redoubt would at least be able to defend itself against large-scale assault and orbital bombardment. The hapless troops that were unfortunate enough not to receive the message, however, would have to fend for themselves.

* * *

_Sector Omega-17, High Orbit over Planet New Namek, Age 775, Present Time_

Studying the holographic display on the command deck, Yjk'kluth frowned as he noted the positioning of Republic troops. Although the battle was proceeding mostly favorably, with numerous concentrations of Republic troops wiped out, his drones had also suffered considerable casualties. Not that drones mattered; they were easily replaced, but seven egg-groups had perished in areas that were mysteriously bare of Republic troops. Bizarrely enough, the life scanners still registered numerous organisms present, yet drones dispatched to investigate hadn't reported back. However, the energy scanners registered none of the distinctive wavelengths of energy that would have had to been emitted from Republic weaponry, had they been fired. Coupled with the readouts from the life scanners, and the loss of troops, Yjk'kluth was decidedly baffled.

Suddenly, however, an epiphany struck him. Natural energy expenditures wouldn't register on the same scanners that detected Republic weaponry. But if natural energy had been used to dispatch his troops, that meant the Republican Enforcers had to be present, since the Republic possessed no other troops capable of subduing fourteen hundred drones with natural energy. That Enforcers were present on the unregistered planet did not bode well in the least for the success of his expedition. Enforcers could readily subdue even large concentrations of regular drones, and with guerillas tactics, which they would undoubtedly employ following the Serpentine victory, they would pose not only a severe annoyance to occupying troops, but a major threat to the systematic harvesting of this planet's resources.

Unfortunately, in order to curtail the threat, the Serpentines would need to use Basilisks, who were unruly and insubordinate at best, and would almost certainly disobey the orders of the hive-mind. And renegade Basilisks, too arrogant and unintelligent to differentiate friend from foe outside their own group, would indiscriminately attack both Republic troops and Serpentine drones. Scowling, Yjk'kluth concluded that he would have to personally lead the expedition in order to maintain some semblance of coordination in the invasion. Descending into the actual bloody horror was a distinctly unpleasant ordeal, despite his high prowess, and one he was loath to engage in, but the alternative was losing control of the planet.

Curtailing his anger, he ordered the Basilisks, one hundred fifty of which were aboard the troopships, to rendezvous at a rally point planetside, which they reluctantly obeyed, given that it was a personal order, delivered from him as the Prime Mind, instead of the hive-mind as a whole. Suppressing a viscous curse at the Basilisk caste as a whole,Yjk'kluth scuttled to his shuttle, barking at his bodyguards to accompany him.


	13. The Senate Summons

**A/N: My deepest apologies for the over-a-month delay between updates. What with finals, a vacation, and simple apathy towards writing, I scarcely realized that so much time had passed. I hope some of you didn't think I abandoned the story. Special apology to ForgottenPhoenix, I will definetely resume reviewing your story ASAP. I have also updated, as per ForgottenPhoenix's request, Ch.1, to provide an explanation of technology that doesn't require a chemistry background to comprehend. In any case, I will be updating more frequently again, and as always, enjoy! (and review, plz!) **

_Sector Omega-17, Planet New Namek, Alpha Base, Age 775, Present Time_

Bolts of plasma flared as they impacted the crude earthwork embankment enclosing the equally crude redoubt of the 127th Legion. The vitrified earth shattered under the intensified barrage a moment later. Hunching behind said earthworks, or huddling in shallow slit trenches, the Republican troops returned fire, dotting the base of the hill with explosions as their projectiles hit home. Jakoti paced the ridge, heedless of the enemy fire streaking around him, bellowing orders and encouragement to a terrified-looking engineer squad. "Hold the line! They don't have the numbers to take this position as long as we hold! Sergeant! Get those mortars up! What the hell are you doing, cowering in the trench like that! I want a shrapnel cover at two thousand meters in five minutes, so these men can retreat! Get to it!"

Turning smoothly and drawing his pistol, Jakoti shot a rearing Serpentine as it was diving into the trench, neatly blasting half of its head off. Holstering the smoldering sidearm, he turned to the still-trembling squad. "What are you waiting for, get to it!"

Vaulting out of the trench, Jakoti strode back to the rear echelons, where several more competent engineers were managing a vast antispacecraft battery.

"Target inbound, grid fourteen-alpha tango, firing battery four, charge six." The enormous cannon, mounted on a spider-like carriage, rotated several degrees. A high whine cut the air, and a vast shockwave shook the entire ridge as the cannon loosed a vast projectile skyward. Far, far above, the glittering point intersected with another, far larger dot in the sky, causing a brief flare of light, before fading.

"How is it going? Any trouble with the orbital bombardment?"

An engineer with the insignia of a Captain turned to Jakoti. Removing his helmet, he wiped sweat from his grimy face. "Negative, Colonel, they've just been keeping up a steady rate of one every minute or so. But with the speed they're going at, and the radius of per bolt, we're operating at, say 75% efficiency right now. If we let even one through, you can say good-bye to at least half this ridge."

"Alright, Captain, try and keep that from happening, will you? How about ammunition?"

"That's more likely to be a problem. We've already requisitioned the rounds from the heavy artillery batteries- no need for them now, without any hard targets, so we'll be good for another eight hours, at least. After that, we might have to start scraping the barrel."

Nodding grimly, Jakoti clapped the Captain on the shoulder, offering a slight smile. "Well, if we manage to hold out for another eight hours, I'll consider dealing with that problem a blessing."

The Captain returned the smile, but fatalism shone his weary eyes. "Yes, sir."

Turning away, Jakoti strode back towards the front line, a mere three hundred meters away now. Over the course of the past four days, shortly after they'd fortified the ridge and set up Alpha Base, the bulk of the Serpentine army had surrounded the position and repeatedly assaulted the position. Ever since, the Republicans had beaten back wave after wave, but at a high cost. Even with the trickle of stragglers reinforcing his position, Jakoti had only twenty thousand out of the original twenty-seven thousand that had retreated to Alpha Base. And the remaining men were tired, hungry, and stressed to near-breaking. Meanwhile, the Serpentines, although having also suffered heavy casualties, were tireless, their appetites satiated by the dead, and utterly without morale to break. As he headed the checked the tactical display on his HUD, Jakoti heard the fading echo of orders behind him.

"Target eliminated. Reload on battery four. Battery one adjust, grid seven-gamma bravo, prefire charge, check."

_Sector Alpha-1, Planet Arcosia, Republic Senate Confluence Age 775, Present Time _

The Senate Confluence of the Interstellar Republic was a monumental edifice of white stone situated at the heart of Melator, the sprawling city-world that served as the political and military center of the Republic. Thought Arcosia was officially the name of the planet, the cityscape covered the surface of almost the entire planet. As such, the planet-city was informally referred to as Melator, to avoid confusion with the Arcosian species. Tall spires, fantastic architecture and innumerable assorted lesser fabrications all housed the gargantuan civil and military administration that managed the day-to-day affairs of the vast polity. The Confluence's enormous circular rotunda, positioned directly over the Senate Chamber proper, overshadowed the Senate District. Inside the revered Chamber itself, thousands of Senators, ambassadors and diplomats held forth daily on the myriad issues of a galactic government. Though officially the Supreme Senate, the extreme degree of centralization in the Republic bureaucracy had led to the informal disuse of the prefix. Bound with the highest solemn authority in the North Galaxy, and responsible for the livelihood of uncountable citizens, the Senate routinely dealt with dilemmas and contentions of paramount importance. As such, the Senate Chamber on most days was an environment of sober, pensive discourse, charged with the utmost dignity and gravitas.

Today was not such a day. The podium in the center of the the circular chamber was occupied by a thickset, balding man, whose simple white robes of office bore the gold insignia of Presidor. His upraised hands futilely attempted to placate the tumultuous throng of Senators, from whom a storm of invective, harsh denunciation and revilement spewed. The flustered Presidor, however, was not the target of the cacophonous commotion. It was the occupant of the podium next to his, reserved for the currently recognized holder of the floor, that the vicious castigation was directed towards. The podium, elevated in order to facilitate the unobstructed view of its occupant, was flanked by four tall Arcosians clad in jet black armor, swords sheathed at their sides. They stood, unmoving and emotionless behind their full-face helmets, four pillars of imposing menace. But the Arcosian standing in the podium, at whom the furious barrage of defamation showered upon, towered, statuesque, above all of them. His own burnished armor was trimmed in silver, but otherwise identical to that of his guards. Though he wore neither sword nor helmet, his raised chin and impassive face gave less insight into his inner cognition than faceless metal. Bracer-encased arms crossed across his polished breastplate, perfectly composed and utterly heedless of the Senators' mounting rage, he imperturbably endured the tirade of thousands without the slightest twitch.

At length, the discord ebbed. The raging storm faded to a low grumble, resentfully bubbling among the assembled Senators. The Presidor lowered his hands and cleared his throat. "As you can see, Commander Koldaros, the Senate is, ah, somewhat disturbed by your recent actions."

Unfolding his arms, Koldaros's expression remained impassive as he replied: "Military actions are of no concern to the Senate. My orders to mobilize the military is therefore under my own jurisdiction."

At this, the Senators erupted into a fresh burst of censure, but this time, the Presidor managed to restrain the irate politicians in relatively short order.

"But Commander, the full-scale mobilization of the Army and Navy naturally raises some puzzlement, and given your refusal to offer any explanation, the Senators, are rather, um, perturbed. A declaration of war requires the Senate's approval, after all, and all of us are only concerned with the welfare of the Republic."

Koldaros's expression failed to noticeably shift. His countenance remained as emotionless as his response: "In order to remain free of political influence, the military must abstain from the political arena in its entirety. I stated as much in my transmission of a week ago. I am currently in attendance only because of the Senate summons, which, as the Supreme Commander, I am bound to obey. I am not bound to report my motivations or rationale for military affairs."

Upon hearing this, a Senator stood, despite the attempts of the Presidor, and roared out "Koldaros, you warmonger, you are a servant of the state, and subordinate to the authority of the Supreme Senate! Your 'removal of political influence' from the military has rendered it loyal only to you! This is a Republic, not a military dictatorship, and authority by force of arms ended with the fall of the Cold Empire! Your refusal to answer for your actions are borderline treasonous, and smack of a coup d'état in the making! If you persist in this pigheaded venture, you will face a Senate investigation, trial, and possible dismissal!"

Several of his colleagues voiced their approval raucously, and the Presidor once again struggled to reassert order. The Senator who had spoken appeared far from finished, and after assessing the support for his view, opened his mouth to speak again.

Koldaros raised his head, pinning the offending Senator with the force of his gaze. His red eyes remained as inscrutable as ever, and his voice as level, but his words carried a terrible threat nonetheless. "Treason is a dangerous accusation to make, Senator, and its definition can change in an instant. All authority rests on force of arms, and you would do well to keep that in mind. I founded the Republic through force, and it is by force that it still stands today. If securing the stability of the Republic is treason, then I think we need a new definition. One that declares persecution of the Triumvirate punishable by death, perhaps?" The crimson orbs bored into the cowed Senator, who slowly sank back into his seat. Mercifully breaking eye contact, Koldaros turned to address the Senate as a whole. "In the future, I will thank the Senate to refrain from interfering with the military. Such matters are best left to those who understand them."

With that, he turned and strode form the Chamber, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.


End file.
